


Caught in Your Orbit

by unholyregalia



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, BDSM, Blood, Caning, Collars, Dirty Talk, Domme/sub, Drinking, Edging, F/F, Kinda?, Multi, Name-Calling, Oral Sex, Pet Names, Pet Play, Restraints, Slow Burn, Smoking, Smut, Spanking, They/Them, it's like the tiniest mention of blood but it's still there, tagged f/f cause there aint no enby tags, there shall be angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:21:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23949787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unholyregalia/pseuds/unholyregalia
Summary: 'There’s the kind of love that sweeps you off your feet, fast and passionate and shines from your very eyes like lightning. It’s fiery, and you can’t get enough of it, it’s gulped down and insatiable. It’s yearned for, pined after, fought over. And then there’s the kind of love that consumes you. It looks similar, tastes all the same, but captures you without force or shackle. The Love that Devours, sacred and spiritual and all-encompassing. You see nothing but that love, all else fades, because nothing shines brighter in your eyes. Agape, blind faith, by all its names it resonates so deep within you there is no way or want to pull yourself from the virtuous, dominating haze you float through. It has taken everything you have freely given. If you had more, you would offer it, but with nothing else to give you surrender to the pull and plunge yourself headfirst into Love’s awaiting depths.'AKA there's no apocalypse and we watch Mina fall in love with a strange creature she's not sure is of this world
Relationships: Venable x reader, Wilhemina Venable/You
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	1. Champagne Stains on Your Dinner Jacket

**Author's Note:**

> Hi i have nothing to say for myself other than I'm sorry.... but
> 
> Reader's name is Fate (not quite the same character as my other works, I really am just THAT lazy when it comes to naming OCs), they're non-binary, this was a little work for all my masc/andro/butch wlw bubs who need a little representation
> 
> Mentions of drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes, weed mentions in TBD chapters, please let me know if you want me to fix/update any tags! Thanks for reading friends :)

_~6 Months ago_

_The tall, frameless glass door to the coffee shop swung open. A gust of fresh spring air accompanied the older redhead who had opened the door, her cane accentuating every footfall. The door swung back into its spot, almost floating on its hinges that were seemingly delicately attached to the wall- which was also made of a thicker grade of glass. In fact, the whole coffee shop was like one geometric fishbowl of floor-to-ceiling glass, other than the back wall that was part of the support of the entire ten-story apartment building that loomed over Beverly Boulevard in West Hollywood. A busy enough street, considering Sunset was just a few blocks away._

_Down to her lilac heels, that matched her monotone skirt and blazer, Wilhemina Venable looked pristine. Every strikingly-red hair in place; the frame of her dainty, gold glasses perched on her nose just right. ‘Order on the outside,’ and all that. She made her way to the cash register, like she did every weekday morning, at almost the exact same time, and waited patiently behind the only other person in line. Having a coffee shop that made an adequate cup of coffee on the first floor of her building had become a relaxing morning routine when Tazza moved in almost five years before._

_Wilhemina stepped up to the counter, smiling politely at the cashier, Mallory. As she opened her mouth to order, Mallory cut her off with a bright, “Hello, Ms. Venable. Here’s your coffee.” The young woman already had Wilhemina’s order in her hand, and was holding it out to the redhead. Mallory was smiling sweetly, seeing that it had taken her off guard, and Wilhemina blinked a few times before taking the coffee. Her fingers had instinctively flexed over the head of her cane, and she relaxed herself enough to lean it against the counter so she could get her wallet out._

_She knew she came every morning, and that yes Mallory knew her order perfectly by now, but this was an act of kindness Wilhemina wasn’t quite used to. Mallory had only worked here for about a year, but her kindly disposition permeated even Wilhemina’s cold exterior, if only slightly. “Oh, well, thank you, Mallory. That was kind of you.” She hoped her tone had portrayed polite sincerity, and not the genuine surprise she was absolutely feeling. When Mallory handed her the change from her ten dollar bill, she dropped all of it in her tip jar. Wilhemina certainly didn’t think that’s what Mallory was after, she always tipped when she paid in cash._

_“Of course. You come in at, like, the exact same time every day, you must be busy! Your order is just kind of part of my routine now.” Mallory said cheerily, like it was the simplest thing in the world. Her wide grin threw Wilhemina off again, who offered another tight smile and made her way back towards the door without another word. It didn’t bother Mallory, she knew Ms. Venable was a woman of few words. And, she figured the woman who always dressed in layers of varying purple was probably much more cheery after she had her coffee. How adorably wrong she was._

_Carefully stepping off the curb and into the street, Wilhemina set her cane gingerly against the side of her Mercedes C63 Coupe. The sports car was low to the ground, and sure there were a few bells and whistles she would never utilize, but it was comfortable on her back, and jackrabbit fast. It was a beautiful shade of diamond white; there had to be limits as to her use of purple, sometimes. She climbed in with grace, having found the best way to get into the short seat without any pain early on._

_You wouldn’t know any of this though. Because you were running late, like you always were. You were racing down the back streets, if you could call them that, of West Hollywood on your motorcycle towards Tazza. It was a classic-looking Honda Rebel 300, with a custom pearl-white paint job, and a girl with her arms wrapped around you sitting on the back. Your tires screeched as you launched yourself around the last right turn, feeling the arms around your waist tighten. When you pulled into the only available spot, you patted yourself on the back for managing to at least get a spot out front, since you were now 12 minutes late for your shift. Your eyes shifted to the gorgeous Mercedes Coupe you had parked next to, but the windows were tinted and you couldn’t see inside._

_Wilhemina could see you though. The roar of your engine when you pulled in had engulfed the sound of her eight cylinders, and she had watched you with a bit of disdain as you dismounted. Your hand went out to help the other rider off, who jumped down without your help, whipping her helmet off as she went. Long, shimmery pink hair flew out, tangling momentarily in the helmet which made you laugh. You helped her first, then finally removed your helmet too, revealing your almost entirely shaved head, save for the messy crop of strawberry blonde curls on top. They hung in your face, framing your strong jawline which Wilhemina noticed was now being kissed by the girl with pink hair. She peppered them over your soft, freckled cheeks as you pulled possessively at her clothes and anywhere you could grasp. Eventually you grabbed her by the cheeks and gave her a bruising kiss before pulling back reluctantly and handing her a set of keys. Then turned and jogged up the curb and into the coffee shop as the pink-haired girl walked the opposite way down the street. When you had fully disappeared, Wilhemina found she was still staring after you. ‘What a strange creature,’ she thought, then put her car in gear. She wouldn’t be late just because something shiny caught her eye._

_~Present_

“Finally!” You yelled, though it was muffled by the padding inside your helmet. As you pulled up to Tazza, you were hoping desperately that there would be a spot out front, and for once you wouldn’t be late. Every spot on the street was taken, cars from people who couldn’t afford to park in the apartment building parking lot, except one. And it was yours. You whipped your bike into the spot, pulling off your helmet and starting to fix your clothes. You still had a whole ten minutes before you actually had to be inside. Normally you hit typical LA traffic, or left late, or whatever excuse you might need for being essentially incapable of showing up at 8:00 AM. But, you were the General Manager, so you wrote the schedule, and could technically come in whenever you wanted.

When you walked in the front door, Mallory’s mouth was open wide and her eyes were the size of dinner plates. You scowled playfully at her, pointing a finger in her direction. “Don’t even start with me.” You teased, knowing she was flabbergasted that you had showed up not just on time, but early. “I’m early, I’m in a good mood, I had time for breakfast, and I look amazing today. You’re not bringing me down.” You did a twirl to emphasize your ‘looking amazing’, as Mallory came out from behind the counter to look you over. She giggled as you spun around, sticking your thumbs under your suspenders. You had a party to go to this evening, that you weren’t entirely looking forward to, so you thought dressing for the day you wanted to have was the best way to approach inevitable, uncomfortable situations. You had on shiny, black wingtips that were well polished, and fitted black trousers below a simple, short sleeve button up. But the plummy suspenders added the necessary pop of color and matched the plum blazer you had slung over your shoulder. Purple wasn’t usually your color, but last minute you changed your mind from the ocean blue set you had picked out first.

“I wouldn’t dream of ruining your mood. I’m just genuinely shocked that your bike didn’t go on strike for being woken up early enough to get you here on time.” Malloy couldn’t help herself, and the way you laughed when she said it told her you knew she was just poking fun.

You hopped behind the counter with her, stowing all your stuff behind the office door to tend to later. You needed coffee. Throwing an apron over your head, you washed your hands, then got to work making yourself a double espresso. Mallory wandered into the back, saying she would be just a minute. Now that you were here she could use the bathroom. The door clicked as you finished pouring a little almond milk into your coffee, and you meandered over to the register slowly, being careful not to spill your overly-full cup. Putting the espresso down next to you, you looked up with a soft smile on your face, ready to greet the newest guest. The older redhead immediately took you off guard, her striking cheekbones and dark eyes making your smile falter slightly. You shook yourself a bit, trying to meet her intense gaze with more confidence. “G’morning. How may I help you?” You sounded quite breathy, and a rosey color was blossoming just under your neckline.

Wilhemina’s upper lip twitched into a smirk, almost imperceptible, but you saw it and your mind went blank for just a moment. “I’ll have a red eye, with just oat milk foam on top.” She batted her lashes at you, but that faint smile had faded, and turned to a look of almost curiosity. “Please.” She added a few seconds later, when you still hadn’t moved from your spot. The look on your face made her want to laugh, but she seemed to be having more fun toying with you.

“Right, red eye, of course, sorry…” You mumbled, the initial blush that was working its way up your chest was now settled on your cheeks. Before you could move to start making it, Mallory was at your side, effectively blocking your path to the espresso machine.

“Hi, Ms. Venable. Is Fate helping you out?” She asked sweetly. The redhead smiled politely back, nodding her head.

“Hello, Mallory. And yes, I do believe that was going to happen eventually.” Wilhemina turned her gaze back to you, raising an eyebrow like she was waiting for you to confirm this fact.

Finally, you gathered your wits and offered a much more convincing smile to the two women. “Yep, it is. But, uhm.” You looked at the redhead sheepishly, putting your hand to the back of your neck. “I might’ve forgotten what kind of milk you asked for.” You finished with an awkward chuckle.

Mallory was quick to correct you. “Wait, you don’t know her order? Ms. Venable comes in every day, silly. Have you two never met?” The younger blonde laughed, then pushed you out of the way of the register. You and Wilhemina both shook your head. “That’s probably because she’s always on time, and you never are. This one’s on us today, Ms. Venable. I’ll show Fate how to make your order on the off chance they are ever on time again.” Being the service manager, Mallory was allowed to comp drinks as well, and you figured with how awkward you were being, the redhead had earned it. You also didn’t mind getting a few more minutes of being around this alluring woman.

Wilhemina caught the pronoun Mallory had used for you, and she made a mental note of it as she watched you roll your eyes at Mallory’s teasing.

Sticking your hand out, you offered the redhead a lopsided grin, showing off your handsome smile. “I’m Fate, nice to meet you Ms. Venable.” You were glad you finally sounded a little less shaky. Her eyes traveled quickly up your figure, noting your strong grip and the way your rolled sleeves clung to your toned biceps. Not one to be caught staring, Wilhemina finally met your eyes.

“Pleasure to meet you as well, Fate. You may call me Wilhemina, if you’d like.” She offered, shaking your hand with a surprising grip. Not too hard, but firm and to the point.

Before you could say anything more, Mallory was calling you over to show you how to make Wilhemina’s drink. You watched as she steamed a little bit of oatmilk, then poured it carefully over the top of the coffee and espresso in the porcelain cup. “I could’ve done that, y’know.” You muttered as Mallory dumped the remainder of the milk out and cleaned up after herself. She smirked at you and gingerly picked up the coffee, but stopped right next to you before dropping it at the pick-up bar.

“Why, so you can try to flirt with Ms. Venable more?” Mallory whispered, trying to hide a giggle before finally putting the cup down so Wilhemina could pick it up. The redhead was already standing there, waiting patiently, but watching the both of you like a hawk. Your blush had just been subsiding before Mallory teased you again, and you ran an annoyed hand through your hair as your face flushed ruby once more. When you looked up, Wilhemina was looking down at the drink curiously. She was about to pick it up, but hesitated, then picked her gaze up to look directly at you, and again the power of her eyes on you took you off guard.

“Everything okay?” You asked, walking towards her and standing in front of the drink. The bar separated the two of you by barely two feet, and the fresh scent of her perfume made you a little dizzy. It smelled like earl grey tea, and what you thought might be pea flower, or cucumber. Something green, and it made your mouth water.

“Woops!” Mallory laughed, walking over and snatching the drink up. “I forgot to put it in a to-go cup. Sorry, Ms. Venable, I’ll pour it in one right now.” So that’s why she’d looked at you that way. Mallory was about to walk away when you stopped her, gently catching the girl by the elbow.

“Wait, that’ll mess up the foam. I’ll just drink that one, and make another. If you don’t mind waiting, that is?” You turned around and looked at Wilhemina, hoping she wouldn’t mind. You would make this one perfectly for her.

Wilhemina watched you both for a second. She didn’t really need to be anywhere, even though it was a Friday morning and typically she would be at work. She had taken today off to go to a few doctors appointments before she met a friend for dinner at the Italian restaurant down the street. It wouldn’t be so bad if she stayed here to drink her coffee, and you were certainly proving to be a curious new interest. “Thank you, but I think I’ll take it the way it is.” She said decidedly, and couldn’t help the smirk that creeped up her face when you snatched the cup away from Mallory so you could be the one to hand it to her. Soft fingers brushed against yours when Wilhemina took the warm mug from you, and you sent her another winning smile. She determined she liked seeing you do that, and said quietly enough that only you could hear her, “And I like your suspenders.” The purr of her voice made your lower lip quiver with none of your brain’s approval. You had vaguely noticed earlier that she was wearing a violet peacoat, but now you could see as she stood on the lower side of the drink bar, that she was in head-to-toe purple, like she always was.

You laughed awkwardly and couldn’t help but grin, and she smiled wickedly in return when she saw how deeply red your neck had gotten. “Well, uh, thank you. It looks better when I’ve got the blazer on. I guess we sorta match, huh?” You gave her another once over, getting momentarily lost looking at her slender legs beneath the hem of her skirt. When you didn’t bring your gaze back up, she tapped her cane lightly against the ground and cleared her throat; testing to see how you’d react. To her surprise, you looked back up at her with a little more confidence, not at all embarrassed she had caught you blatantly checking her out. She raised an eyebrow, otherwise seemingly unaffected, before wandering herself over to the counter top at the end of the bar that had a few high-backed stools sitting at it, and each were empty. Just as she preferred it.

The counter offered a view of the entire drink line and down the hall into the back room. She sat at the closest chair, placing her coffee down before settling in and leaning her cane against the leg of the stool. You were tidying up the counter while she sat, mostly just moving things around. Mallory always kept the place in perfect shape, including right now, but you were hesitant to leave now that Wilhemina had sat down and was looking right at you like you were her lunch. You remembered that you had your own rapidly-cooling coffee and snatched it from the register quickly before walking towards the older redhead again. You leaned against the count top, resting your elbow on the lip of the bar as you smiled at her. You didn’t quite know what to say, despite how desperately you wanted to talk to her, and you hoped she would at least start the conversation for you.

After a moment of silence on your part, Wilhemina realized she would have to do just that. “How long have you worked here, Fate?” She asked conversationally, taking a sip of her coffee as she finished asking. It tasted lovely, Mallory made her drink exactly how she liked it- strong and piping hot. You told her you had been working there for a little over a year. That made her brows raise. She had only first noticed you about six months before, when you were publicly fondling the little harlot that had been on the back of your motorcycle. She thought you must really be late every single day for her to literally never see you in the mornings, no wonder Mallory teased you so much. “Really, over a year? And where did you work before?” She didn’t really care if she was prying, she knew you would most likely answer her truthfully, and you were fast becoming an intriguing new subject.

“Oh, well, before Tazza I lived in Boston, and worked at a sweet little Italian restaurant. I got this job when we moved back to LA. Valentino, the owner, hired me at his first location when my ex and I had first moved to Boston for school, and when he expanded to the west coast he offered me the GM position here.” You explained, well, overly-explained. You were quite talkative naturally, it’s why you worked well in service jobs. The guests loved to befriend and confide in you, and you enjoyed making friends with strangers, it always involved a good story eventually.

Wilhemina certainly didn’t miss that you had mentioned your ex. That didn’t mean she was sure it was the girl she had seen you with, but it didn’t _not_ mean that either. “What do you do for work?” You had found a metal milk pitcher to polish, and were focusing on that so you didn’t have to make eye contact. It made your heart pound every time you watched her lips brush the rim of the coffee cup.

Tracing her index finger along the rim of the cup, Wilhemina regarded you for a moment like she was considering whether or not to answer the question. You looked up when she didn’t answer, wondering if you had said something wrong. When you finally made eye contact, she smiled slyly. “I am the head of Human Resources at a robotics company.” She finally said, picking the mug up again and taking a small sip, breaking eye contact with you.

 _She has to know what she’s doing,_ you thought, licking your lips unconsciously as you watched her drink her coffee. The line of questioning turned to a few about where you were both from, how long you’d been in LA, and lasted until she had finished her drink. You knew it had to end eventually. She gave a polite goodbye, throwing you a wink that had you blushing all over again, and to your surprise turned sharply and walked down the side of the building and past its large glass wall. She headed through the courtyard that was attached to the apartment building, then disappeared past the doorman and into the lobby. “Hmm. Swanky.” You muttered to yourself before stowing the milk pitcher away and finding something else to clean.

____________

The shift went by relatively quickly, and no hiccups always made for a smooth close. Mallory had left earlier in the day, and you were left to close up by yourself, and after a year, you were pretty sure you could shut this place down in your sleep. Grabbing your bag, helmet, and blazer you made sure everything was shut down and the lights were turned off before exiting the shop from the back door and locking up behind yourself. The door led to the inside of the courtyard, and you were already lighting a cigarette by the time you had clipped your keys to your belt loop. Leaning against the thick glass wall, you took a long drag from the cigarette and let it sit in your lungs for a few seconds, closing your eyes. It was only just 6:00 and the party didn’t start till 7:30.

You were already getting anxious about this party, which was being hosted at a nice French restaurant you’d never been to not too far from the coffee shop. You planned on going to Valentino’s in the meantime, the Italian restaurant that sat conveniently between Tazza and the French spot. You knew a few of the staff members and wanted to have a drink or two before the party. It was a birthday party for your ex wife Haley’s girlfriend, who also happened to be your best friend. They had gotten together only three months after your divorce which seemed incredibly shady to you, but your best friend tried to assure you there hadn’t been anything going on previously. You were incredibly skeptical, and at this point you were really starting to get sick of maintaining this friendship anyway. You picked your leg up and rested it against the wall behind you, taking another long drag when a familiar voice ripped through your thoughts.

“Twice in one day, some people might think that’s a bit stalkerish.” Wilhemina smirked at you when you had opened your eyes and caught her standing just a few feet from you. You hadn’t heard her approach, despite the gentle tap of her cane while she walked. She was dressed decadently in a deep-purple evening gown, sharp black stilettos and a black faux fur shawl wrapped over her shoulders. Her fiery red hair was intricately French braided from the crown of her head and laid gently over her shoulder. She looked heavenly, and you were certainly at a loss for words for more than a moment. “Cat got your tongue?” She purred when you didn’t answer her.

Taking another drag from your cigarette, you used the moment to collect your thoughts so that you didn’t sound as dumb as you felt right then. _Who the hell is this woman,_ was mostly what raced through your head as you finally spoke, smoke wandering past your lips with each word. “You look absolutely pristine.” Was all your brain came up with. It wasn’t wrong, she did look immaculate. But you had also wanted to be a little more smooth about it. At least you sounded more sure of yourself than you felt, so you threw her a smirk just to lay it on thicker.

Wilhemina raised an eyebrow, obviously amused with your response, and gave you a warm smile in return. “What a strange creature you are.” She shook her head and walked a bit closer, eyeing you up and down in your full outfit in quite an obvious manner. “And you were right, the blazer certainly completes the look.” She complimented, her chest tightening excitedly when she saw you offer a cheesy smile in return.

“Thank you, Wilhemina.” You said looking at the sky. You truly couldn’t seem to keep eye contact with her, it was almost like trying to look into the sun. “Anyway, are you off to the opera dressed like that?” You tried to joke, taking another long pull from your half-smoked cigarette.

This earned you a breathy laugh, and a gentle tap of her cane. Wilhemina shook her head lightly. “No, no. Just dinner at Valentino’s with a friend. I was about to walk over when I caught you stalking me.” Her eyes flashed playfully, and you wrinkled your nose back at her.

“I wasn’t stalking you!” You laughed, pushing yourself off the wall to stand at your full height. You were just a bit shorter than her in heels, but your broad shoulders and frame made you seem bigger than you were. “And, I’m actually going to Valentino’s too.” You noted her brow raise, and decided to just spit it out. “Maybe I could walk with you?” It sounded all like one word, and you hoped she wouldn’t make you repeat yourself. The look she gave you, though it hardly lasted a second, was of genuine surprise. She quickly schooled her features though, and regarded you cooly for a moment, assessing whether you were worth her time, you figured. You were about to tell her to forget it and take your leave when she cut you off.

“I think I could allow that.” Her voice was molten honey, and it made your skin tingle like you had been dipped in headfirst. You couldn’t help it, you smiled at her with full teeth and tightened your bags strap over your shoulder. When you bent down to pick up your helmet she rolled her eyes at how excited you had looked; it was almost too easy.

The walk to Valentino’s wasn’t far, just a few city blocks. You talked idly, and she hummed and commented briefly, but otherwise allowed you to ramble the whole way. When you reached the restaurant, you jogged ahead to hold the door open for her. She smiled politely at you, rewarding you with a bat of her dark eyelashes as she walked in past you. You followed her into the lobby, immediately recognizing the hostess standing up front. “Hey, Steph.” You called, walking up to stand next to Wilhemina and giving the younger girl a kind smile.

“Hi, Fate. Long time no see.” Stephanie joked, you had seen her just two days before when you had stopped by after closing Tazza, but she returned your warm smile. Then she looked at Wilhemina. “Hi, Ms. Venable. You’re a bit early for your reservation, the table isn’t quite ready yet. I hope that’s alright.” She looked a little sheepish and glanced at you quickly. Wilhemina seemed unfazed though and simply nodded.

“I think I might wait at the bar then. Thank you, Stephanie.” Then her focus was on you, looking you over once again as Stephanie walked away. “And I suppose this is where I leave you to go meet whoever you’re dressed so handsomely for.” She tried to come off cool and uninterested, but the twitch of her upper lip made you smirk at her. You hadn't mentioned if you would be meeting anyone here when she told you of her reservation with a friend.

Your head turned to the side like a confused puppy, playing innocent. “Oh, I’m not meeting anyone here. Just stopping by before a party down the street. I actually planned on heading to the bar.” You said with the smallest lilt in your tone. Again, you let your brain run wild with your words. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Perfectly painted nails drummed over the head of her cane, and for a moment even Wilhemina was surprised you hadn’t tripped over your words. She hummed thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think so.” She said finally, but when she saw your hopeful smile start to fade, she followed up with, “But, I would like to buy you a drink. Returning the favor from this morning, that is.” She confirmed. She would deny it to her grave that the way you grinned at her completely knocked the wind out of her

“I think I could allow that.” You tried to sound serious, mimicking her from earlier, but when she rolled her eyes at you it made you belly laugh. It was a deep, gravelly sound she assumed was the result of years of you smoking cigarettes, but it suited you. You held out your elbow to her towards the hand that didn’t hold her cane, waiting for her to wrap her fingers around your bicep. She eyed you warily, but finally took your arm and turned you towards the bar. You fell in step easily with her, and let her lead, which she appreciated. When you reached the bar, you pulled the plush stool out for her where you had found two spots kitty cornered to the wooden countertop.

She smiled slyly at you, her deep brown eyes seemed almost predatory. You had started to notice that she looked at you like that; like she was sizing you up for her next meal. It made your knees weak. “Such chivalry.” She purred when you had finally sat yourself down next to her. Independent as she was, Wilhemina rarely allowed people to do things like that for her, but something was different about the way you did it. You seemed happy to help, and pity didn’t darken your gaze when you looked at her. You wanted to be useful, she could see it in the proud sparkle in your eyes when she rewarded you with a smile or a smirk. The bartender appeared quickly, the restaurant wasn’t quite busy yet. He was smiling at you already, she noticed, and you were returning the warm gaze equally.

“Hey, kid.” The older man greeted you, reaching out to shake your hand. You grinned and stuck your hand out, returning his firm grasp. “Good to see you again so soon.”

“Hi, Pat. Good to see you too.” You turned to Wilhemina, letting the older man’s hand go. “Wilhemina, this is Patrick, he’s the bar manager here.” You smiled at her, seemingly much more comfortable with yourself all of a sudden.

Patrick was laughing by the time you had finished your sentence. “Kid, I know who Ms. Venable is, she’s been coming here for a few years longer than you.” He gave you a wink when you looked thoroughly confused, before offering Wilhemina a respectful head nod. “Hello, Ms. Venable. It’s good to see you.” He left it at that and walked away, two drink menus sat in front of you before he went.

She had been able to hold back her wicked grin until you had looked up at her with your lost puppy eyes. Her teasing smile made you wrinkle your nose. “I happen to go places other than your coffee shop and my job.”

How had you literally never run into this woman before when she lived above your job, and also frequented your favorite bar? You didn’t know what else to say, so instead you reached forward and picked up a drink menu, flipping quickly to the wines by the bottle section. “Do you like wine?” You rasped, kicking yourself at how your voice cracked.

Wilhemina hummed thoughtfully. “I do, yes. Do you?”

“I love it.” You sighed happily, “Let me guess,” that confident swagger returned to your voice; wine was something you were good at. “You like a traditional red, bold and biting, maybe a nebbiolo or a sangiovese?” You flashed her another one of your winning smiles, seeing that she actually looked mildly impressed with your deduction.

Her fingers played absentmindedly with the edge of the drink menu as she thought about your guess. She liked all types of wine, and yes a bold Italian was a favorite of hers, but this beautiful spring weather called for something a little lighter, and she certainly didn’t want you looking at her so smugly much longer. “If it were the dead of winter, I think that would be quite a good guess. But seeing as we’re in the middle of Los Angeles in spring, something a little more light on its feet would suit me better right now. What kind of wine do you like?” She questioned, noting the way your lip caught beneath your teeth as you thought over your answer. Her nostrils flared when you ran your tongue over the spot to soothe where you had bitten down.

“Hmm. I like all sorts, but something bubbly usually. There’s a sparkling red from Italy that I really like, and I could drink that all year round.” Your eyes shined excitedly, it was obvious to her this was a favored topic of yours, but you also seemed excited about a lot of things you talked about.

“Lambrusco?” She asked. She had a bottle sitting in her fridge at home waiting for a day similar to this to open. You squeaked when she said it, obviously delighted that she knew what you were talking about. “That’s a favorite of mine as well.” Wilhemina couldn’t help but chuckle when you started rambling about your love of the grape and the vineyards and how you couldn’t wait to visit the region again. Eventually she got a word in amidst your rambling. “Well, I’ll buy you a glass of that, then.”

Your ranting stopped mid-word. You had forgotten she had offered to buy you a drink, and you didn’t really think she had been serious about it in the first place. She had a reservation to get to anyway. “Really? I didn’t think you were serious. I just thought you were being nice. You really don’t have to.” You smiled nervously, waiting for her to be relieved by the out you had given her.

Wilhemina’s eyes narrowed slightly, she was looking right through you for just a moment as she thought about her words. “Little one, I think you’ll find that I am normally quite serious.” She was looking right at you now. “And I told you I would buy you a drink, I am a woman of my word.”

 _Little one,_ it hadn’t escaped you. You had been called that a few times, by a few specific partners. That familiar tingle crept down your spine and settled low in your stomach. _Well, this changes things,_ you thought, trying to sit up a bit taller in your chair. It had been a while since you had played like that, and you had to admit you missed it. Letting go of control was a powerful, exciting experience with the right person, and this woman’s stoic disposition honestly made you feel vulnerable in the most erotic way.

Your lip caught against your sharp canine as you met her eyes, taking a deep breath, “A glass of lambrusco would be nice. Thank you, Ms. Venable.” The offering had been made, and you picked up on what it meant quickly. She was rather impressed. When the bartender came back over, she ordered both of your drinks, the same glass of wine for herself. You eventually worked up enough courage to ask, “Do you usually get drinks with strangers?” It made you smirk that the frank question obviously threw her off a bit.

“No, I don’t suppose I do. But I still have my reservations about you stalking me. We were even headed to the same restaurant this evening.” She threw back when she recovered herself. “Do you usually get drinks with your customers?”

Shrugging, you ran a hand through your hair, trying to keep it out of your eyes. The effort had Wilhemina thinking about tangling her fingers in the tight ginger curls. “Sometimes. Strangers have the most interesting lives.” You offered, giving Patrick a smile when he dropped off your drinks. Wilhemina took a minute to think over your answer as she took a sip of her wine, enjoying the way the bubbles dissipated over her tongue. She heard you sigh happily after trying it, looking to her to see if she enjoyed it too. “Do you like it?”

Wilhemina eyed you oddly, but it was in such an amused way that you saw a smile graced her lips, if only a little. You noticed they were a lovely shade of plum, almost perfectly matching her dress. You seemed to be so curious and interested in everything, but specifically, at least right now, about her. No one ever asked her this many questions. “I do like it, it’s refreshing.” She hated how soft her own voice sounded. “Do you like it?”

And you were off again, waxing poetic about this being your favorite style of wine. She let you talk for awhile and was about to interrupt to ask if you ever took a breath when Stephanie appeared next to you. “Ms. Venable, your table is ready. I can add the drinks to your tab if you’d like.” She said cheerily.

Almost immediately your face fell dejectedly. She had to go already, and you were just starting to feel rather comfortable around her. Wilhemina nodded and thanked the girl, telling her that she would come meet her at the host stand in just a minute, but that she would prefer to settle up at the bar. Stephanie smiled at you a little too long before finally walking away. It made you run your hand through your hair again, rolling your eyes.

“She seems to like you.” Wilhemina noted casually as she moved to stand up, leaning heavily into her cane. This had you out of your chair in an instant, holding ever so gently onto her elbow as she righted herself. To her own surprise, Wilhemina didn’t feel the need to brush you off for trying to help her.

The comment made you scoff, though not unkindly. “Who Steph? Yeah, she’s nice.” You noted with a shrug. “Not really my type though.” You pushed her chair in, then hooked your fingers under your suspenders, not quite sure what to do now that she was about to leave.

“Right, I do recall your type being the kind that have pink hair, and cling to you on the back of a motorcycle.” Wilhemina couldn’t help herself, the way you brushed off the host’s attention made her more confident as she eyed you. Her snide remark made you gulp in a bit of air, and look anywhere else but at her. You didn’t know she had ever seen you with your ex.

Your hand brushed through your hair again, which she was noticing you did a lot when you were thinking of what to say. The curls were splayed out wildly by now, but they just made you look a little more rugged, and flustered, which she was beginning to enjoy. “Uh, well. I-I guess you’re talking about my ex.” It came out breathy, and you grimaced. “I think my days of pink hair and girls who only like me for my motorcycle are pretty much over.” It was a simplification, but you didn’t have it in you to explain about your ex wife and all the weird ways your lives still intertwined. Like the party tonight. Just the thought had you groaning out loud, without concern of the woman in front of you.

Raising an eyebrow, Wilhemina moved her head slightly so she could catch your eyes. It didn’t help that you were purposely trying not to look at her. “You seem like the mere thought of her is causing you pain.” She was smirking, but her eyes conveyed interested concern.

“No!” You quickly tried to correct, but immediately saw her lean back in surprise. “No, it’s not that. It’s just that she’ll be at the party I’m going to later, and I’m just not looking forward to it.” You quieted your voice a bit more, feeling shy all over again. “And honestly, I was having such a nice time talking to you I don’t really want to go at all now.”

When you finally made eye contact with Wilhemina, she was biting her lip and obviously trying to hide a smile. It tickled her greatly that you were already worried about making a good impression on her, and also making sure she knew that you were available. Her voice was like velvet when she finally spoke, wrapping you up and making you weak in the knees. “Truthfully, I don’t want to go either. But, obligations, right?” Pat had left the checkbook on the bar, so Wilhemina reached over and pulled the pen and extra receipt out of the book. She scribbled something quickly, then grabbed your hand and pressed the folded note into your palm. It made you shiver, her manicured nails grazing along the skin of your wrist as she pulled you closer to her. Her breath tickled your ear when she leaned in and whispered, “If you don’t have too much fun later, maybe you can use this.”

Then she was gone, sauntering towards the lobby to meet Stephanie. Your fingers twitched, feeling the scrap of paper against your palm alighted every nerve in your body. _What did I get myself into?_


	2. Talk is Overrated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut!  
> and gentle themes of venny being maybe possibly soft for our enby reader but like she doesn't do soft so don't think about it.

_Well, I guess it could be going worse,_ you thought to yourself as you surveyed the party in front of you. It had been about an hour since you arrived, and other than a few awkward moments between you and your ex it had been turning out much better than you had expected. You had even gotten to see some friends who were in town for Sam’s birthday. When you moved back to LA with Haley, it had initially been amazing to have your childhood best friend back in your life. Well, until she started sleeping with your wife. Which, as you watched Haley bat her eyes at Sam, you knew they couldn’t be looking at each other like that after only three months. Hell, you’d only officially divorced five months before. Both relationships had meant the world to you, but you didn’t suffer liars. Shaking your head a bit, you downed the rest of your drink and wandered your way between partygoers to find another. The open bar helped, as did the piece of paper currently burning a hole in your pocket.

The entire walk to _L’oisillon_ (you had finally looked up the name of the French restaurant), you had man-handled the receipt paper, bunching and folding it out in your pocket repeatedly. Truthfully, no one had ever given you their number before, it had always been you giving yours away; always making the first move. It had you tingling with excitement as you wandered around the bar to find a spot. When you had finally settled down and ordered another gin martini, your other go-to when not drinking wine, you finally pulled the paper from your pocket. The ink was smudged a bit now that you had folded it so many times, so you pulled your phone out to plug the number in. You didn’t want to lose it. _So, smooth operator, are you actually gonna text her?_ Your inner voice could be rude at times.

This was already too hard. What could you possibly say to make her want to text you back? _She said if I don’t have too much fun, and I’m hardly having any_ , you reasoned, typing something out quickly, then deleting it just as fast. “Come on, rookie, just get it over with.” You chided yourself, taking a brief sip of your new martini before typing out,

‘Do you usually give strangers your number?’

And off it went, and so did you. Standing up abruptly, you decided your phone would be happiest stowed in your blazer, hanging on the back of your chair. You couldn’t imagine what she would say back to that, if anything at all, so you figured you could distract yourself with a cigarette. Outside, the crisp air felt brilliant against your skin, and you took a deep, steadying breath. It had been incredible to live in Boston with all its seasons, and sure the smog in LA was pretty gross, but nothing beat the weather in southern California at any time of year. Lighting your cigarette, you leaned against the wall of the restaurant and looked down the street.

You could barely make out the lights on top of the apartment building above Tazza, and you wondered briefly what floor she lived on. Probably the penthouse. Wilhemina seemed like the type of woman who had the best, because she expected the best out of herself and the people around her; if the all-purple, perfectly fitted ensembles said anything. _Gotta appreciate a woman who knows what she wants,_ you laughed to yourself, exhaling a cloud of smoke. If this went the way you thought it would, hoped it would, you’d be having quite a bit of fun very soon. Getting lost in the thought of Wilhemina whispering in your ear, making you soft so easily, had you taking one last long drag from your cigarette. _Reel it in_ , you reminded yourself, trashing the butt in the little bin next to the door. You couldn’t avoid your phone forever.

Once you were back inside, you wandered through the crowd and ran into a few more friends. You chatted a bit, and tried to duck behind someone before Sam could see you. But she did spot you, and reached around the guy you were hiding behind to grab your arm. “Fate, hey, there you are!” She was definitely some type of drunk. Sam was a head taller than you, which during all your years as friends she never let you forget. You had both grown up playing all sorts of sports together, and she was just naturally gifted, where you had to really work for your spot on each team. And Sam was a good friend, but you wouldn’t be able to deny there was always the spark of competition between the two of you. You had just always assumed it was sportsman-like, and wouldn’t ever involve your wife and partner of seven years. “Dude, I’m so glad you came!” She was standing unnecessarily close to you now, it wasn’t that loud inside the restaurant.

“Hey, Sam. Happy Birthday.” You tried for a genuine smile, and took a slight step back so you could actually look at her. She had on a ridiculously vibrant, fitted orange suit and white lace-up Doc’s, very typical of her. Always loud, even when she wasn’t talking. “Love the outfit.” You smirked at her, laughing when she struck a pose for you, sloshing her drink a bit when she flung her arm in the air.

“Thankyouverymuch.” Sam struck a different pose, then finished her drink in one gulp. Her eyes were on you again instantly, and amazingly she was focusing very heavily on you. “Buddy, we gotta talk.” Gulping, you were already trying to interrupt her. “No, no. We do. I don’t want there to be this,” she waved absently into the air, rolling her eyes, “Thing between us. Because you know there is.” She slurred, eyes narrowing slightly at you. Sam knew your weakness, and even drunk she knew how to exploit it.

All your life you had always been exasperatingly, annoyingly honest. It had gotten you in and out of trouble for years, but usually it just got you into trouble. You and Sam had always joked that because you couldn’t seem to lie, you always knew how to spot a liar. That was true, and also what was bugging you about Sam trying to have this conversation in the middle of her birthday party. If she pushed you right now, you would only be honest with how you were feeling. “Sam, seriously, I don’t think we need to talk about this right now. It’s your birthday.”

“Seriously, Fate, we do. I miss my best buddy, I miss my pal!” Her hand was in the air again, using her empty glass as a prop while she talked animatedly. You rolled your eyes, looking towards the bar longingly to make sure your blazer was still on your chair. “You gotta know that I would never do you dirty. You’re my best friend.” Sam stated plainly. Behind her you could see Haley making her way through the crowd towards the both of you. You groaned internally. _Fuck._

“Actually, I don’t know that. I don’t know who you are at all anymore, Sam.” You stated plainly, she wasn’t going to be allowed to rile you up, she didn’t deserve it. And Haley didn’t deserve to see you like that. “I hope she was worth it, bud.” The smirk you offered Sam had her looking all sorts of confused, then Haley was leaning on her shoulder, whispering something in her ear. “Happy Birthday.” You threw over your shoulder, turning on your heel and striding away before Sam could stop you.

That went much better than you had expected, although you hardly said what you had really wanted to. Taking a seat, you reached into your blazer for your phone, heart already close to pounding out of your chest. You clicked your screen on, seeing that you had a message from an unsaved number. _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ your brain screamed, what were you supposed to do now that she actually responded?

_‘Do you usually text your customers when you’re at a birthday party?’_

Wilhemina had been home for quite a bit when your text rang through, lighting her phone up as she read quietly. She had been settled comfortably on the couch in her favorite silk robe, enjoying a glass of wine; the bottle of lambrusco she had been saving made for a delightful after-dinner digestif. Although she knew you would reach out to her eventually, she didn’t think it would be so soon. “So eager,” Wilhemina had hummed before she sent her response.

Your lip was going to be swollen by the end of the night if you kept biting it the way you were. Rereading her text, too many times, you thought of what to say next. Of course you text your customers when they are beautiful women who may or may not have thrown a gauntlet down that you were now being challenged to accept or deny. Obviously that wouldn’t be an appropriate response, but you had considered it briefly.

‘I do when I’ve reached my capacity for fun at said birthday party.’

Raising your hand to get the bartender's attention, you ordered another martini and sat back, hoping she was picking up what you were putting down. _Maybe we should cool it on the gin,_ your ever-present inner voice offered, which made you roll your eyes. The two of you were usually at odds, which if anyone knew how much you talked to yourself they might think you certifiable, but you just figured sometimes you had better conversations with yourself than with other people. Your screen lit up with another text as you pulled your fresh martini closer to you across the bar.

_‘Pity. And here I was thinking you’d save a little fun for me.’_

Oh she was definitely picking up what you were putting down. You were already starting to respond when her typing bubbles popped up again.

_‘I’ll just have to drink this lambrusco alone then. Oh well.’_

The full body shiver that took you over had you squeezing your eyes shut tight, gripping at the arm of your chair as you calmed yourself. The gin was starting to go to your head, and you definitely blamed the alcohol for the fuzzy feeling that started in your chest and plummeted lower into your abdomen. Wilhemina Venable was going to spell trouble for you, and you knew it.

‘You said the magic word. I always have room for lambrusco.’

You sent off before taking one last long swig from your drink and jumping to your feet. Thinking better of it, you sent a follow up message.

‘I can be there in 15.’

Leaving a hefty tip, you threw your blazer over one shoulder and slightly-snuck out of the bar, making sure to not make eye contact with Sam or Haley. You wouldn’t let them ruin this for you. The street was surprisingly empty for a Friday night, which didn’t bother you a bit, as you swayed giddily from side to side. You did a spin, letting your blazer fly out behind you like a cape, and found yourself giggling when you righted yourself to keep walking. Just a few flirty texts had you like this, but you definitely would blame the martinis. “It’s definitely the gin. It always puts me in a good mood.” You said mostly to the moon, head thrown back dramatically. Your phone vibrated in your pocket.

_‘Let’s hope there’s enough left for you.’_

_‘Tell the doorman you’re going to the 10th floor, he’ll let you in. I’m #3.’_

You couldn’t help but smirk, because you were right, she did live on the top floor. Fishing for another cigarette, you sparked it as you stared at the chat, eyes glancing across her unsaved number over and over. That’s what you did, left numbers without a contact name. It made nights like tonight easier to forget and let go of, there wasn’t a very good chance you would use her number again. Wilhemina was many things, but she didn’t initially strike you as the relationship type of woman, and you certainly weren’t interested in settling down any time soon.

Tazza was dark and empty, just as you’d left it, when you walked by. It always gave you the strangest feeling to be around the coffee shop after hours when it was quiet, you didn’t like it. That thought couldn’t dwell long, because as you approached the apartment building doors, the doorman was stepping slightly into your path with a polite smile on his face. “Good evening, may I ask who you’re here to see?”

“Wilhemina Venable, tenth floor.” You stated, letting him block you from going inside, he was just doing his job.

With a look of surprise, he simply stepped to the side for you to pass. “Well, then, enjoy your evening, Miss.”

The prefix made you bristle, but you offered him a tight smile and pushed through the doors into the lobby. The entire elevator ride up you tried to take steady breaths, you were getting a little nervous. But just because this woman screamed dominance didn’t mean you were going to just let her walk all over you, at first.

Her door was just a few feet from the elevator, one of only five doors on the whole floor. _Incredibly swanky,_ you thought as you finally knocked on the door. Taking a step back, you could hear the tap of Wilhemina’s cane as she approached. Then her door swung open in one fluid motion, and you were squaring your shoulders to stand a bit taller.

A frown graced your lips, looking Wilhemina up and down. You had to admit, she looked hellishly good in her robe, but you had already planned on what to say. “And here I thought you’d greet me with a glass of wine.”

Her lips pursed, and you could see the way her tongue brushed over her teeth, she was trying not to be amused with your sudden confidence. Wilhemina righted her features, giving you the same assessing once-over. Your bike helmet and blazer hung carelessly in the hand you didn’t have stuffed in your front pocket, and she could see how dark and glassy your eyes were; intoxicated _and_ horny, fun.

That just wouldn’t do. As you smirked at her, she took a single step into the hallway, accentuated by a firm crack of her cane on the tile. “And I thought I had invited over that polite creature I met earlier, not this surly little demon.” Your face fell, and when she took another step closer to you, you swore she’d be able to hear your heart thundering in your chest. _Stupid gin,_ you screamed at yourself. “But disappointment is inevitable, isn’t it, Fate?” It wasn’t a question.

“I’m sorry, Wilhemina… I-I was just messing around.” You mumbled, wrinkling your nose uncomfortably. When you opened your mouth again, she raised an eyebrow, which had you snapping your jaw closed. At least you could look her in the eye, so she knew you were being honest. It felt like minutes had passed by the time she finally spoke again, and your buzzed brain hummed happily at the soft tone in her voice.

“See, this is much better.” Her gaze flickered down to your mouth. You were abusing your lower lip, and she could see how swollen it was as you bit it. Wilhemina took a step back to look you up and down again, pleased with herself to see that frivolous confidence you tossed around had all but vanished now that you had been properly chastised. “For someone who talks _so_ much, it’s interesting to see how quickly you can go quiet as a church mouse.” The look she pinned you with was nothing short of feral; dark eyes glinting wildly as you shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. “Now, are you going to put that attitude away if I let you in?” One elegantly raised eyebrow emphasized her question.

“Yes, I absolutely will.” You were already nodding emphatically.

“Good. That’s what I was hoping you would say.” Wilhemina finally smiled at you, and it immediately made you relax a bit. She stepped sideways, obviously letting you in first as she followed behind you. Her penthouse was huge, and stunningly furnished in a very minimalistic way, with accents of mostly white and black granite. Only little pops of purple could be seen as you looked around. A lavender vase with white lilies in it, and a deep plum blanket thrown over the black leather couch. But that was about it. You turned around to find her closing the door, and were about to make a comment about the lack of color when she interrupted you. “There have to be a few limits to my use of the color, little one.” She answered before you could even ask.

That made you laugh, because it made no sense, but who were you to argue? “Well, you’ve got a beautiful home.” You offered, feeling nervous all over again now that the two of you were simply standing in her entry way. Wilhemina hummed, and walked around you towards the kitchen. The whole floor plan was open concept and as you followed her you got a view of the dining room and living area, all immaculately kept, of course. She was pouring a glass of wine as you stood idly on the edge of the kitchen and living room, and when she looked up it made her roll her eyes. Your hands were shoved in your pockets as you looked around, and one foot was literally in the kitchen, on the white tile, and the other was leaning onto the hardwood that covered the rest of the house. Like you couldn’t decide which space to be in, so you chose both.

The tap of her cane as she approached you made you stand up straighter, offering her a warm smile when she held the glass of wine out to you. It was a lovely, opaque shade of ruby, and looked slightly carbonated. “You can have it if you promise to be polite.” Wilhemina teased, and it made you blush, which she was really starting to have fun with.

“I promise I will be on my best behavior.” You chuckled, running a hand through your hair as you spun the wine around in the glass, before bringing it to your nose. Your eyes popped open wide. “This smells delicious.” Taking a sip, you moaned softly as the bubbles ran across your tongue, popping like brilliant little firecrackers made of salted raspberry candies. You were definitely going to need to get the name of this wine. “Thank you, Wilhemina, this is great.”

-

Eventually you got over your initial nerves, and Wilhemina fetched her own glass of wine before you both sat down at her kitchen table. You asked about how dinner went, and she inquired about the party. Not wanting to bring the mood down, you told her it had gone exactly as expected, but left out the bit about Sam confronting you. Wilhemina even allowed you to smoke a cigarette on her balcony, and as you stood to go inside, you offered your hand to help her up.

She raised an eyebrow at you, ignoring your offer entirely. It made her fingertips itch with the need to wipe the look off your face as you smiled at her politely. When Wilhemina didn’t move to take your hand, or stand up, you simply picked up your glass of wine and waltzed off. She could see as you headed towards the door that although you held your liquor well, and as tantalizing as you were swaying your hips to whatever music was playing in your head, she would have to set the limits for both of you tonight. Then you were opening the door and holding it for her, biting your lip as you tried to hide a smirk.

Rolling her eyes, Wilhemina stood in one graceful motion and sauntered inside after you. The moment the door was closed, she pinned you against it, pressing her body into yours with surprising strength. That same perfume filled your head, fresh and earthy and practically edible, you couldn’t help but moan. Wilhemina laughed, low and raspy in your ear as she brushed her lips across your cheek. “Now, little mouse, listen carefully. You’ve had your cigarette,” you felt the head of her cane dig into your hip, it was the same hand that held you to the door while the other plucked your empty wine glass from your grip, “And your glass of wine. And now that that’s over, I’m not going to hear another word out of that boorish little mouth of yours until I say so. Is that understood?” That demanded an answer.

Turning your head just slightly, you choked out a raspy, “Yes, Ms. Venable.” You could feel the hand at your waist that held you to her tighten, and it made you whimper pitifully.

“Delightful.” She growled in your ear then took a step back, smirking now that she could see you had your eyes closed tight. When you finally caught your breath and could turn around, Wilhemina held up your glass for you to take back from her. “You may leave this next to the sink.”

The flush across your neck was obvious, and you ran your hand through your hair to compose yourself as you took the glass, wrapping your whole hand around the stem like you might drop it. “Yes, Ms. Venable.” You murmured, turning quickly to do as told, and with each step you could hear the tap of her cane as she moved into the living room. It commanded such attention you swore you could feel it even through the wooden soles of your wingtips. When you turned to find her, she was sitting on the couch with her legs crossed elegantly, watching you with a hungry gaze.

“Come sit.” Wilhemina eyed the cushion next to her, and it was said with enough authority you didn’t think twice before obeying. Your eyes wandered to the way her satin robe fell across her lap and exposed the outside of her thigh, and she caught you lick your lips. “Perhaps we should settle some ground rules?” She broke your revelry, and you glanced up at her with a shy smile. You nodded, and let her continue. “You’re familiar with the traffic light safe word system?”

“Yes, Ms. Venable.”

“Good. I only have a few rules, and they aren’t hard to follow.” She fixed you with those dangerous, dark eyes when she heard you audibly gulp. “You will only refer to me as Ms. Venable while we play. You will use your safe word the moment you even think you might need it. And,” a pause, to make sure you were absolutely paying attention, “You will not even attempt to remove my clothing.” This was really happening. “Have I made myself abundantly clear, Fate?” She asked, and that authoritative tone had you squirming.

“Yes, Ms. Venable.” You knew she could see your chest rising and falling much more rapidly now, but you couldn’t do anything about it.

To your surprise, Wilhemina smiled gently at you and leaned back into the sofa, poised and relaxed, the opposite of what you looked like right then. Sat stick straight on the edge of the cushion, you had your hands pressed together between your thighs as you tried to keep eye contact with her. “Well, with that out of the way.” That kind smile turned predatory so quickly it made your head spin. “Up you go. Undress.” She stated plainly, raising an eyebrow when you didn’t immediately stand up. You got the message quickly though, and jumped up to obey her. Wilhemina indulged herself with raking her eyes up and down your figure while you untied your boots first. Then you were toeing them off, pulling your suspenders down your arms at the same time. Sad as she was to see them go, when you started unbuttoning your shirt she saw you had a rather attractive set of toned abdominal muscles that flexed deliciously with each one of your nervous breaths. Your pants were last, neatly folded on top of your shirt and left on the couch cushion as you now fidgeted in front of her in just your binder and tight briefs, hands clasped behind your back. At least while you were getting undressed you had somewhere else to look.

Her thoughts raced between wanting to bury your talkative little mouth beneath her nightgown right then and there, and actually dragging this out the way you both wanted. Wilhemina could see how you twitched and squirmed under her powerful gaze, and knew it would be so much better to watch you come undone over the course of the night. She just needed to figure out exactly how to do that. “We’re going to play a game, little mouse.” Wilhemina almost wanted to laugh at the lost way you looked at her. This whole thing _was_ the game, wasn’t it? “I’m going to ask you a few questions, and you will answer with your color. Simple as that. Understood?” She was standing now, leaning into her cane as she closed the short distance between you.

It couldn’t be helped, you figured, when you realized the reason she had stopped so abruptly and was laughing wickedly at you was because you had audibly squeaked. You didn’t think you were capable of making a noise of that octave, but the sound had definitely come from you. Flushing a deep shade of crimson, you ducked your head as you muttered, “Y-Yes, Ms. Venable.”

“Apt nickname for you.” Wilhemina mused, reaching out to run her finger from the bottom of your binder, across your abs and down to the waistband of your underwear. Your skin ignited with goosebumps, and she watched hungrily as your stomach flexed and fluttered at her touch. “How do we feel about spanking?” She picked her gaze up from watching you struggle to breath properly so she could look you in the eye.

“Green, Ms. Venable.” You had sucked in a deep breath, and exhaled shakily so you could answer.

Wilhemina hummed approvingly. “And caning?” You answered green again, to her delight. “Name calling?” Green again. A devious smile set on her lips as she reached back up to your binder, running a sharp nail across the material. Then she was looking at you much more seriously. “And how do we feel about taking this off?” She didn’t want to overstep what you were comfortable with, or bring the mood down.

Another warm blush settled on your cheeks and across your chest as you said shyly, “Green, Ms. Venable,” and offered her a thankful smile. You didn’t wear your binder much, truthfully, there wasn’t much to bind. But the fact that she had asked made your stomach do flips, and a jolt of excitement had your briefs sticking uncomfortably to your thighs.

With your positive response, Wilhemina felt much more emboldened, and dropped her hand back to the waistband of your briefs. You squirmed under her touch, and she just smirked when her fingers dipped between your legs to find just how excited you were. “Oh, little mouse.” She purred, watching closely as your eyes fluttered shut and you let out a pathetic whimper when her finger grazed your clit. “Do you want me inside of you?” Wilhemina was right next to your ear, and her silky voice only added to your arousal coating her fingertips.

“Yes.. Yes, Ms. Venable.” _That’s not your voice,_ you told yourself. Whoever that was sounded too needy, too breathless, it couldn’t be you. But it had been, you were the one falling apart in front of her from just a few dirty words. Then her hand was gone, and she was taking a step back from you, watching as your lower lip quivered. Wilhemina turned, leaving you behind her as she sauntered towards what you assumed was the bedroom, but as you thought about following her, you stopped. She hadn’t told you to, and she seemed the type to like to control your every move. So you waited, still trembling slightly from the way she had touched you.

When she reached the doorway, Wilhemina paused, fixing her robe on her shoulder before turning to look at you. The pleased smirk she sent you told you that you had done exactly as she wanted. “Good, pet. Now, come.” She ordered, disappearing into her bedroom. You followed her up quickly, padding your bare feet across the hardwood as quietly as you could. Her bedroom was just as starkly decorated as the rest of the house, the queen sized bed being the only splash of purple in the room. The burgundy sheets and pillows looked incredibly soft as she sat on the very edge of the bed. She watched as you stood just on the other side of the doorway, shifting awkwardly, and rolled her eyes as she snapped, “Get over here.” Pleased at your hurry to obey her, she offered you a sinful smile as you stood in front her. “Lay across my lap.” Wilhemina commanded, leaning her cane against the hard, wooden bed frame.

Shuffling forward, you looked at her briefly and immediately knew she had seen the trepidation in your eyes. It had been quite awhile since you had been spanked, but it was mostly just excitement giving you pause. Before she could ask if you were sure about this, you were maneuvering yourself across her lap and clasping your hands behind your back, exactly as she wanted you.

The look of pride she gave you as you got into position Wilhemina would deny to her grave. She simply hadn’t had a decent submissive in awhile, that was all. They should all be this well-trained, she reminded herself. “You’ve obviously done this before, little mouse.” She mused, wrapping her hand over both of yours to keep your arms still. “I’m going to spank you until you cry, and you’re going to count each one, if you don’t I will stop and start over.” When you didn’t squirm, or give any type of response, she swatted your ass harshly over your briefs. Sure it wasn’t a question, she just wanted to know she had your attention.

“Yes, Ms. Venable.” You whimpered. Then your briefs were being ripped down your legs and bunched carelessly at your thighs. The cool air that washed over your dripping pussy made you moan, and Wilhemina smirked at the sound. A firm, open palm swang down on your ass, dead center. “One,” you sighed. Another, this time on the tops of your thighs, which made you squirm uncomfortably at the sensation. “Two.” You knew she was just getting started. Three more, all across the same spot and when you whined loudly it only made Wilhemina laugh. “F-Five...” You mumbled, digging your nails into your own palms.

The hand abusing your ass halted for a moment, and Wilhemina ran her fingers across the red splotches blooming on your soft skin. When she dipped her fingers briefly between your thighs, she scoffed loud enough for you to hear when she pulled them away coated in your arousal. “Little slut, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t help yourself, you moaned into the bedsheets that you had buried your face in, “Yes, Ms. Venable.”

Well, she appreciated the honesty. “Of course you are.” She spit, raising her hand and landing another harsh slap to your ass.

“Six!” You wailed, kicking your legs against the mattressd.

Wilhemina slapped you twice right across your soaked cunt, growling, “Stay still.”

“Eigh… Eight.”

When she had gotten to around thirty, you were sobbing into the bed sheets, arms aching from being held so tightly behind your back. “Th-Th...Thirty.” The material was soaked, from you choking on your tears as she spanked you. This was exactly how she wanted you, sniffling and pliable.

This time, when her fingers dipped between your thighs she gave you what you wanted. Two digits pressed into your needy, dripping pussy and Wilhemina let go of your wrists to give your arms some relief. She had to stifle a moan at how wet you were, it was almost unbelievable. “You’re just desperate to be used and abused, aren’t you, little mouse?” When you moaned in response, she pumped her fingers harder into you, moving her hand just enough so she could brush her thumb over your throbbing clit.

“Fuck!” You wailed, entirely unprepared for how that sensation would rocket through your sensitive body. The shiver that ran from your head to your toes made even Wilhemina falter. “P-Please, Ms. Venable.”

She was truly enjoying being the reason you made those sounds, but she had her own needs to worry about. Pulling her hand harshly from between your thighs, Wilhemina started to pull you to your feet, with a harsh, “Get on the bed.” On wobbly knees you obeyed, crawling up the bed and into the center on your back. You were leaning up on your elbows, looking at her with hooded eyes that screamed lust and utter submission. It had her ravenous. “You’re going to put that exasperating tongue of yours to much better use.” Wilhemina followed you up the bed until she was knelt between your legs, then reached forward and slid her hands beneath your binder, making it clear she wanted it gone. You helped her remove it, gasping when her fingers immediately grazed your nipples and goosebumps peppered your skin. Having you naked, fully exposed like this under her, Wilhemina took in every inch of you as she slid her gaze across your body. 

“Please.” Was all you could whimper as you felt her warm breath ghost your lips. You begged so nicely for her, and it was rewarded. As her lips met yours in a demanding kiss, you let out a pitiful moan. She tasted like wine and desire and fresh air all at once, and your head swam pleasantly as she nibbled at your lower lip. Then she was crawling farther up your body, shedding her robe and fully exposing her lavender nightgown as she straddled your chest.

Deft fingers inched the silk material up Wilhemina’s pale thighs, and she couldn’t help but smirk at the dazed look in your eyes as her black lace underwear came into view. She lowered herself over your face, moving the garment to the side for you, and almost immediately let out a moan. You had leaned up to meet her and instinctively wrapped your lips around her clit, then pressed your tongue flat against her, which elicited the moan. To steady her, your hands came up and gently wrapped over her hips, high enough that it was obvious you were trying to be respectful. It made her smile, obviously only to herself, as you were busy working your tongue faster across her aching clit. She ground her hips into your mouth, sighing and panting as you worked her over. Wilhemina had to admit, you were good at this. You didn’t tease and poke around, your tongue ran up between her folds, before you would wrap your lips around her clit and brush your teeth across it. And each time she would shiver and buck into you harder.

“That’s it, little mouse.” She encouraged, and the moan that you responded with had her heart racing closer to her climax. Your fingers pressed harder into her skin, skimming the silk material at her hips as you sought purchase, and she gasped deep in her throat as you lapped eagerly at her. When you sucked her clit into your mouth again, pressing the flat of your tongue to it then grazing your teeth over ever so gently, Wilhemina came undone. She buried her fingers in your tight curls, a long, low sigh leaving her lips as you felt her arousal coat your face. A few jerky movements later, she was retreating from her stance over you to kneel between your thighs again.

It took a few moments for you to catch your breath, knees up in the air as your chest heaved. _That. Was. Incredible._ Your brain stated, only too-obviously. As you picked your head up, you leaned up on your elbows so you could look at Wilhemina. The look she was giving you had you floored. Her already deep brown eyes were blown wide, and were pitch black, and you thought for a moment that she looked capable of devouring you whole. You were about to ask her why she was looking at you like that, but before you could she was crawling forward, pinning your chest to the bed with one hand while the other held your legs open.

“Keep that useless mouth of yours shut while I enjoy myself. Not a word.” She threatened, and you knew she was deadly serious. Your mouth snapped shut, and your eyes closed as you felt her lean down between your legs. The hand at your chest traveled across your stomach, nails scratching your skin until a single finger ran across your clit. You whined, arching your hips desperately. “Absolutely not.” Wilhemina spat, slapping your pussy harshly. It was incredible, and terrifying; you swore just that sensation could make you come right then. Two fingers were teasing your entrance, and you whimpered as she smeared your arousal around, as if you weren’t wet enough for her. She didn’t wait long before pushing inside you, and the gasp you let out made Wilhemina’s thighs rub together unconsciously.

It was painfully obvious how hard you were trying not to beg and plead for her to fuck you. Your lower lip was chaffed and deep red from how you gnawed at it, holding back moans as she started to pump into you a little faster. Wilhemina leaned down, blowing a cold stream of air across your clit, and laughed when you practically screamed into the quiet bedroom. Giving you some relief, she finally ran her tongue across your aching clit, noticing how she could feel your walls flutter around her fingers as she teased you. You had been very good so far, and she did enjoy the way you begged her so sweetly, it just about made her want to reward you. “If you beg for me very sweetly, little mouse, I might let you come.” She husked, trapping your clit between her lips and sucking softly.

You were already starting up before she could even finish. “Please.. Oh fuck, please, Ms. Venable. Please let me come.” You whined.

“I think you can do better than that, darling.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, the desperation was starting to kick in as she fucked you slowly, tormenting your body the exact way you loved, but almost couldn’t handle. The frustrated groan you let out made Wilhemina pause to look up at you, briefly caught off guard by how vulnerable and soft you looked, on the verge of tears and begging her to let you climax. That was the look she yearned for, that she rarely found. “Please, Ms. Venable,” you choked, “I need you to make me come, please let me cum.” The next string of incoherent pleas fell on deaf ears as Wilhemina leaned down and wrapped her lips back around your clit, thrusting her fingers into your cunt punishingly fast. Within seconds you were grasping at the sheets, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut as you came on her fingers. The moan that ripped through your vocal chords echoed in Wilhemina’s chest, and she looked at you in awe as you caught your breath.

-

Normally, you weren’t one to stick around after a roll in the hay. When you had officially gotten your divorce, you had quickly joined different dating apps and made up for lost time. Spending almost eight years with the same person, who wasn’t willing to explore different roles or fantasies, had left you feeling rightfully unsatisfied. So when you started casually dating, you kept it brief and as emotionless as possible. You didn’t think you could handle another heartbreak any time soon anyway.

That’s why it was so odd for you to be standing on Wilhemina’s balcony, smoking a cigarette while she watched you from her spot at the small table set across from where you leaned against the balcony railing. It was strange for her too, she absolutely was not the type to let anyone stay long after they had fulfilled their worth. But you seemed more casual, not clingy, and had only wanted to lay beside her for a bit in bed before you were up and tugging your briefs on and your button up with no binder to go smoke.

She saw you leaning a little too far over the guardrail to look down at the street. “Let’s not find out if ten stories is enough tonight, hmm?” She offered, smirking when you gave her a disapproving look over your shoulder.

“I’m afraid of heights anyway.” You countered, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“Then why do you stand next to the edge?” Wilhemina countered.

“It’s fun to be scared.” _You’re scary, but in a fun way,_ you were glad you hadn’t felt compelled to admit that. Looking up thoughtfully, smoke mingled past your face and through your hair. You took a drag. “Sometimes.” You followed up with, breathing smoke through your nose as you grinned at her.

Wilhemina regarded you carefully, then stood up in one graceful stride, her cane elegantly leading. She plucked the cigarette from your hand, and brought it to her lips, eyeing you tauntingly as she took a drag. “It’s fun to be the one doing the scaring.” Exhaling, the smoke brushed over your face, making you squint playfully at her. “Sometimes.” Then Wilhemina handed your cigarette back and was turning to go back in, throwing over her shoulder, “Your clothes are by the door. I’m sure you can see yourself out. Good night, Fate.”

The door clicked softly behind her, and you let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. _Well, then._ To think you assumed you’d have to sneak out later while she was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway so there's that. i'm excited to get to the next chapter!!


	3. Play Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mina plays a little cat and mouse and Fate is playing their own game on a completely different field. Let's see if she can get their attention

Monday morning rolled around, and when Wilhemina showed up at Tazza at her usual time, you were nowhere to be found. She didn’t look _too_ hard, but when Mallory slid her coffee across the counter, ready by the time she walked in most mornings at this point, you didn’t appear out of the back, or come running in behind her. Tuesday and Wednesday were the same, you were late both days as well and she had driven off just minutes before you had arrived. You weren’t avoiding her, but you also weren’t very good at getting out of the house on time. Wilhemina surely didn’t care, but something about not seeing you behind the counter when she arrived in the morning seemed off now. As if she’d been oblivious to you hiding in plain sight, and, strange as it was, missing something she was entirely unaware existed before. Seemed like the type of nonsensical daydreaming she didn’t have time for. 

When Thursday came, you were sprinting across your kitchen, tidying up before you had to leave for work and drop off your dinner-turned-breakfast guest. Her name was Zoe, and she was fun, but that’s all you knew about her other than her address. “I’ll meet you outside,” you said gently as she reached the foot of the stairs, offering her a smile and soft kiss to her cheek. 

The house you shared with your cousin Kyle was almost too big for the both of you to keep clean, considering you worked a lot and Kyle was simply lazy, but since his dad let you both live in the lavish house in K-Town while he traveled, you tried your best to keep it somewhat presentable. Grabbing your bike helmet and bag, you zipped out the front door, yelling, “Please _try_ to do the dishes before I get home!” That left Kyle alone in his pajamas at the kitchen island too tired to even reply. 

Even though you loved your bike, getting a kick-start really was the bane of your existence at 7:30 in the morning. The engine was always just a little-too-cold and you almost always sat on the bike for several minutes, kicking and pumping the clutch over and over until she finally roared to life. _If Kyle let me park in the_ fucking _garage,_ you grumbled to yourself, peeling off down the street. Traffic was surprisingly light once you’d dropped Zoe off, and you were pulling into a spot a few yards from Tazza at exactly 8 o’clock. You mentally praised yourself, yanking off your helmet as you walked towards the front doors. _Today was going to be good_. 

Right as you jumped up the steps, and thank the gods for glass walls, you noticed Wilhemina turning from the coffee bar and walking towards the exit. Ever chivalrous, you grabbed the door and swung it open elegantly for her, right as she reached for the handle. The cheesy smile you offered her made Wilhemina want to roll her eyes. “Good morning, Wilhemina,” you said casually, squaring your shoulders to stand up straighter. She eyed you up and down, noticing that you were wearing another surprisingly well-fitted suit, this time a dusty charcoal color over a white button down and black Oxford’s. With her coffee perched in one hand, the other struck her cane severely against the concrete as she moved to stand in front of you. She definitely noticed the way you jumped. 

“Good morning, Fate,” she returned, staring at you for just a moment too long. You glanced at her outfit, noticing the tightly cinched belt shaped her waistline deliciously _._ Her nostrils flared when she caught you licking your lips, which she noticed had the slightest smudge of lipstick at the corner, from where Zoe had kissed you goodbye. Wilhemina had to force herself to simply turn and walk away. She knew she had left you dumbfounded without needing to turn around and confirm. It took you several long seconds to compose yourself before you could walk in the door and start your shift. There was no way the redhead was going to comment on your appearance, that would mean she noticed and cared, which simply wasn’t true. 

If you were being serious with yourself, you would have to admit that you had thought about texting Wilhemina several times that week. Friday night had been scary, and fun, but mostly exhilarating. And now as you smoked a cigarette on your lunch break, you thought again about texting her. Memories of your night with Zoe had already been left in the dust. Especially after seeing Wilhemina earlier. _She probably doesn’t want to see you again, dummy. She would have reached out,_ you reminded yourself. Communication was a two way street though, and you knew that. “I guess I could text her first..” you sighed. 

As if she read your thoughts, your phone buzzed in your pocket, and when you opened the text from the unsaved number it made you smirk. 

_‘Will you be attending another mediocre birthday party tomorrow evening?’_

Despite how much it pained her, Wilhemina sent the text message and immediately shut her screen off. Just because you couldn’t work up the nerve to text her didn’t mean you weren’t interested in the possibility of round two, she was sure. You were obviously just intimidated. 

_Get out of my head,_ you mused, taking a long drag and holding the cigarette between your lips as you used both hands to text her back. You ignored the anxious flutter in your chest as you reread her message, trying to think of something smooth to say back.

‘Nope. Just some subpar horror movies with the roommate, but I’m open to better suggestions.’

‘Can I buy you dinner?’

The second message sent before you could think twice about it. The text bubbles that had shown she was typing stopped, and several long seconds passed before they started up again. You finished your cigarette with a large cloud of smoke puffed above your head. _Just going for it, huh?_ You chastised yourself; so much for being cool. 

_‘Thank you for the offer, Fate, but I already have dinner plans. I was wondering if you were free later in the evening, actually. Same time as last week? I have a bottle of Chablis that you might enjoy.’_

Well, she was right to the point. No need to beat around the bush when these interactions were nothing but transactional, Wilhemina figured. 

“Trying to bribe me,” you snickered to yourself, nibbling at your lower lip as you concentrated. She had made it incredibly easy for you, all you had to do was say yes. And a nice bottle of wine was never not enticing to you. 

‘If you picked out the Chablis, I’m definitely available. Same time sounds good to me. ’

-

This time, to Wilhemina’s amusement, when she opened her door Friday night to find you on the other side, none of that drunk, swaggering confidence met her. You had one hand shoved in the pocket of your ripped, black jeans, and the other holding a leather jacket draped over your shoulder. It had been raining all day and a few wet curls clung to your forehead, dripping down your temples as you smiled warmly at her. “Hey, there,” you greeted casually, trying, and failing, to keep yourself from blatantly looking her over. Like you had seen it yesterday, Wilhemina’s vibrant red hair was coiffed perfectly, but she was wearing a more evening-appropriate ensemble. Tall plum heels peeked out from under flared violet slacks that matched her blazer, and a ruffled white blouse was tucked in neatly under a golden-clasped belt. She looked like she had just gotten back from dinner somewhere very fancy. Her cane, always leading, was perched perfectly in front of her as she leaned into the hallway to watch you. 

“You’re early,” Wilhemina stated with a raised eyebrow, but after a beat she stepped aside to let you in. 

_Didn’t realize ‘Same time as last week’ literally meant the same_ exact _time,_ you thought to yourself as you walked inside. Brushing past her, you could smell the faint remnants of her perfume, and it made your head buzz pleasantly. “Uhm, yeah, sorry,” you murmured, turning around to face Wilhemina as she closed the door. “I don’t ride in the rain, I got here quicker than I thought I would.” Offering her a sheepish grin, you looked around her apartment, noticing a pair of wine glasses on her kitchen counter. 

Wilhemina swept past you, cane clicking tenuously against the floor, and the sound was light enough that you wanted to float after her, just as quiet and elegant as she was. The way she moved around so sure of herself and exuding a silent power, it was entrancing. She was pouring you both a glass when you finally decided to join her in the kitchen. It was spotless, just like last time, and when you ran your finger along the black, speckled granite near the glass she had poured for you, it made you smile. 

“What are you smiling at?” Wilhemina asked, raising an eyebrow as she picked up her glass and took a sip. The nude lipstick she was wearing left a dainty stain on the rim.

“I’m having a very nice glass of wine with a lovely woman, why shouldn’t I smile?” You answered immediately. After a lifetime of embarrassing yourself with your overt truthfulness, blurting out something so frank didn’t phase you like it used to. Sure, your cheeks flushed a bit, but you still managed to meet Wilhemina’s intrigued gaze with confidence. _Playing it real cool, kid._

That wasn’t the answer she thought she’d get, although she wasn’t entirely sure what response she was expecting. Wilhemina briefly pondered how odd you were, and you could see the way her chocolatey brown eyes flashed with interest as she watched you. She finally caught herself staring, and pursed her lips as she pushed your glass towards you across the counter. “Drink your wine,” was all she offered in response to your compliment. 

“Can do,” you said, plucking the glass up and eyeing it with curiosity. The golden liquid swirled beautifully around the glass before you finally took a sip, and immediately made a soft noise of contentment. It tasted like citrus and fresh cut grass, everything you loved about spring in a glass. You wouldn’t tell Wilhemina that, though. She probably didn’t need to hear more about what a nerd you were for wine. And with the way she studied you like a predator analyzing their prey, your mind was certainly focused on more interesting thoughts than tasting notes. 

“Do you like it?” Wilhemina asked. She knew you would, it was well-made and expensive, and she readied herself with a smirk for you to tell her how much. Once you had a minute to relax and get comfortable, she figured it would be almost impossible to get you to shut up about it.

“Yeah, it’s nice, thank you,” you said, taking a larger sip and setting it down again on the counter top. The redhead’s smile faltered when that was all you offered in response. You looked into her living room and noticed the lilies from last Friday had been replaced with an overflowing bouquet of African daisies. Their white-to-purple petals looked fresh and you swore you could smell them from where you were standing. Something about this stoic woman having a revolving bouquet of flowers in her home was incredibly intriguing to you, and you wanted to know more. 

All of a sudden her index finger was on your jawline, turning your gaze back to her. “That’s all you have to say about a very nice glass of wine?” She asked, almost incredulously, but you could see the playfulness she was trying to hide. You hadn’t even picked up the bottle to inspect it. “I could hardly get you to stop talking about the lambrusco we had last week.” She certainly hadn’t opened up a hundred dollar bottle of wine to _not_ hear you fawn over it, and her, for letting you partake.

That made you laugh, the same coarse and rumbling chuckle she’d heard at the restaurant last week. Picking your glass back up, you swirled the wine again with a bit more intention, really looking into the glass. She wanted you to talk about it, despite how she would tease you for your chattiness. _What a curious contradiction,_ you thought. “It really is very good,” you noted before taking a sip. She copied your movements, aerating the wine before taking a dainty amount in her mouth, with her eyes closed in concentration. “Do you notice the electric notes of flint it expresses? This must be a newer vintage, anything older than five years would have integrated those flavors a bit more by now. I won’t cheat and peek at the bottle, but I would hazard to guess it’s a decently priced 2017 Premier Cru, from a sustainable vineyard on that beautiful kimmeridgian soil.” Wilhemina heard the silly, wistful tone you used to talk about literal dirt and raised an amused eyebrow. “It tastes organic,” you clarified and took another sip, then added, “But there’s so much bergamot and green apple on the finish that the minerality is really a welcomed nuance.” 

Wilhemina blinked rapidly, taken slightly aback by your sudden deduction. Sure, she had a refined-enough palate, but your analysis certainly took her off guard. Where the hell had you learnt to do that? Her lips parted like she might even ask you that, but nothing came out. 

Once she could regain her air of superiority, she picked up the bottle to scrutinize the label more closely. “2016 Domaine Barat from the Cote de Lechet, Premier Cru,” she said without looking at you, accentuating the French words perfectly while she gazed at the simple label with a little, ornate leaf etched into the glass. “Very good, little mouse,” Wilhemina purred, setting the bottle back down on the counter quietly. Your nickname had its desired effect, and she saw you shift awkwardly from one foot to the other before shoving your free hand into your front pocket.

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking a sip to try and hide the blush creeping up your neck towards your cheeks. “I don’t think I really deserve to be drinking anything as nice as this, but it is delicious. So really, Wilhemina, thank you.” 

Now it was Wilhemina’s turn to chuckle, which you recognized immediately was a beautiful sound you wanted to hear a lot more of. It was light and hollow, but it came from deep in her diaphragm and you could hear the melodic way it rang through her vocal chords. “With tasting notes like that, I think you might be deserving of exactly a bottle as nice as this.” Not usually one for compliments, given or taken, she did at least recognize talent when she saw it. But, seeing you go shy so quickly at her admiration, she was ready for this night to get a move-on. “Go sit on the couch,” she said, knowing you would jump to attention at the tone in her voice. Watching you tense up, then immediately move to action with a soft, ‘Yes, Ms. Venable’, made her skin tingle with excitement. 

She picked up your now-empty glass that you had left on the counter and put it in the sink, before finishing her own and setting it beside yours. Then she returned the bottle to the fridge, all very slowly while you sat stock-still on the couch. Wilhemina was going to let you simmer for a bit. She crossed the living room leisurely, leaning heavily into her cane with each step so you could both hear and feel where she was behind you. If you turned to look at her, you’d lose the game immediately, and she knew you were smarter than that. When she reached her bedroom, she closed the door behind herself and left you in the hauntingly-quiet living room.

As the door clicked shut, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. _Gods that woman is wonderfully intimidating,_ you mused, letting yourself smile anxiously while you were alone. Shaking your head a bit, you tried to quiet your mind for what was coming. She seemed different tonight, just as imposing but more _engaged_ , and not quite as clinical and short with you as the week previous. You were starting to get lost in thoughts of Wilhemina touching your jaw the same way she had earlier, but guiding you into a passionate kiss. Kissing her had been a brief delight, and you hoped she would let you do it more this evening. Then her bedroom door was swinging open, and you straightened your posture and your gaze as she moved towards the other side of the couch. She had changed from her dinner outfit into a floor-length silver robe, with a beautiful plum nightgown peeking out from under the lapels. Just being near her made your mouth water. 

As she moved to sit, Wilhemina looked you up and down curiously, furrowing her brow as if she was suddenly very annoyed. “Why are you still dressed?” She asked, sounding both confused and rather irritated. 

_I don’t know, why am I???_ Was really all your mind could scream as you returned her confused look. She certainly hadn’t told you to undress, you would have done it right away. “I didn’t… You didn’t te-” You started to stammer before she cut you off. 

“Why,” Wilhemina spoke over you, “Are you still dressed?” You hadn’t done anything wrong; she knew she didn’t tell you to undress and you wouldn’t without her permission, but it didn’t really matter. 

After a beat, and the look on her face growing more vexed by the second, you mumbled, “Ms. Venable, you didn’t tell me to undress.”

“I don’t care for your excuses,” she snapped, cracking her cane against the hardwood floor. “Get on with it,” Wilhemina said, before placing herself elegantly on the couch next to you. You noticed her wince, just barely, as she got comfortable on the cushion and placed her cane against the arm of the couch. 

“Yes, Ms. Venable,” you squeaked, jumping up from the couch and starting to disrobe. 

The button-down was first to go, then your shiny black riding boots. She watched you fumble between buttons and laces, getting more nervous as the seconds ticked past, loving the effect she had on you just from looking at you. Once you were in your underwear, hands clasped behind your back, she graced you with a satisfied smile. “Do you think you’re finally ready to listen?” Wilhemina asked, silently thrilled by how quick you were to nod anxiously in response. “Come here, little mouse,” she drawled, nodding to the space directly in front of her. With you so close now she could see the way the lamp light played on your skin, and how your goosebumps raised all the fine, little hairs across your body, practically making you shimmer. 

It made your head spin, the way she vacillated between friendly and demanding. You were tense and trying not to tremble as she raked her eyes down your figure, bouncing on the balls of your feet a few times before realizing she probably wouldn’t like you fidgeting. Catching your eye, she brought her gaze down to the space on the floor at her feet, then back up to you. You knew what that meant, and immediately you dropped to your knees in front of her. Although it wasn’t quite a smile, you could tell she looked pleased with your ability to follow silent commands. Biting your lower lip, you bowed your head slightly to try to hide the excited flush on your cheeks. 

“Separate your knees an inch more, and put your hands flat on your thighs,” she instructed with a lazy flick of her wrist towards you. 

“Yes, Ms. Venable,” you sighed, almost exasperated by how breathy you sounded. 

“This is how you will present yourself to me from here forward,” she stated, as if she were teaching you how to do a mundane, household task. 

Wilhemina leaned forward, just enough to rest her forearms on her thigh as she looked down at you. She obviously liked having the height advantage, and you on your knees made her nostrils flair in what you were beginning to notice was her tell; she was quite pleased by your obedient submission. “I suppose if this is going to continue on, we should be a little more acquainted with one another’s preferences. We’ll play the same game as last time,” she said casually, leaning back into the cushion as she looked down her nose at you. “Does that sound alright to you, Fate?” 

Biting your lip nervously, you nodded as she watched you closely. “Yes, Ms. Venable,” you finally murmured. 

“I’m already quite aware of your enjoyment of name-calling and being spanked, but what about restraints?” 

“Green, Ms. Venable.”

“Good. And, do you have a material preference; rope, silk, leather?” It almost sounded like you should be sitting in her office as she grilled you with HR-related interview questions. Back to that calculating and cool exterior she was so good at controlling. 

“Any of those are fine, Ms. Venable,” you answered, making sure that though you made respectful eye contact, your head stayed bowed and you had to really try to look up at her. “But..” you started, and tripped over your words as she raised an eyebrow at you, “I just… Uhm, I don’t like being blind-folded.” 

“That was my next question,” Wilhemina said, shifting slightly on the cushion. Her back was beginning to grow stiff from sitting with her legs crossed for so long, but she had a few more questions. “Orgasm denial?” She asked, and had to contain her eye roll at the way you blushed and lowered your gaze. “I’ll take that as a yes?” 

“Yes, Ms. Venable,” you said with a brisk nod, still not making eye contact with her. 

That wouldn’t do. Wilhemina reached for her cane, and before you could process the movement she was already using the metal raven’s head to lift your chin up to look at her. “Now, now, no need to be embarrassed,” she lulled, sounding much too sweet for the way she was looking at you. “We’re both here for the same reasons, same desires. You, little mouse, are a wanton, desperate little slut who needs to be shown their place, and I happen to be generous enough and in possession of the correct set of skills to provide that for you. That is, so long as you continue to play by the rules.” Wilhemina’s jaw set tightly, punctuating her frigid gaze with the tap of her cane on the floor directly between your parted knees. The smallest whimper made its way up your throat before you could stop it, but she seemed unphased by it. 

You would be sure to not lose eye contact again, even as you felt her start to drag the end of her cane slowly up the inside of your thigh. The metal tip was cold, and Wilhemina watched curiously as your muscles flexed and shivered trying to keep absolutely still for her. “Edging?” 

“Green, Ms. Venable.”

Wilhemina hummed thoughtfully. “Alright, little mouse, I can see we’re on the same page. I only have one more, for now.” Her cane traveled down your other thigh as she asked, “Pet play?”

It could have been the way the edge of her cane scorched your warm flesh with its cool metal tip that made you blush, or the question she asked, but either way Wilhemina saw your skin ignite almost immediately. This time, she waited patiently for your reply. 

After a shaky breath, and an anxious glance at the floor before making eye contact with Wilhemina again, you mumbled, “G-..Green, Ms. Venable.”

There it was. Wilhemina knew immediately by your response that this had to be a favored kink of yours, and how wonderfully she planned to exploit it now. Her cane struck the ground between your knees once more with a resounding metal clang that made you jump, and caught your full attention. “Is that so? I should have assumed, with how you respond to your nickname. And, pray tell, what kind of pet do I have here, hmm?” Wilhemina hummed, making your brain mush as she smiled at you wickedly. The redhead knew what she was doing, and making you nervous was half the fun of the humiliation of telling her your kinks. The lost look on your face told her she would have to help the process along, though.

Grasping your chin between her thumb and forefinger, Wilhemina tilted your head slightly from side to side, like she was sizing you up. “A sweet, obedient puppy? Or a feisty, little kitten, perhaps?” She deliberated as if to herself while she looked you over. The bright pink tint on your cheeks told her she was on the right track, at least. “Neither? Maybe a pony?” She teased, knowing you probably weren’t interested in pony play, but it didn’t hurt to clarify. 

_Use your words!_ Your brain screamed, but all your mouth could do was take in anxious, shallow breaths as you stared back at Wilhemina. Sure, you were still new to this particular kink, but that didn’t mean you had to be quite so embarrassed by it. But, she was expecting an answer, and you figured the night wouldn’t continue much farther if you didn’t speak soon. “I.. I-I uh.. A puppy, Ms. Venable,” you finally managed to choke out. 

Sinister delight lit up Wilhemina’s face as she stared down at you, try as she might to keep her expression neutral. A nervous, eager pet to collar and train properly was exactly what she had been wanting for awhile, and you were as good a prospect as any with your obvious desire to please at the forefront of your submission. She would wait patiently and see how well you fit the role, obviously, but what fun she would have in figuring that out. “Wonderful,” she purred, dropping her hand from your chin and uncrossing her legs slowly. Wilhemina leaned forward until her nose was just a few inches from yours before whispering, “But, I think this puppy needs a collar, don’t you?” 

Something dark and excited flashed in your normally soft and curious eyes, and Wilhemina did not miss it. “Y-Yes, please, Ms. Venable,” you punctuated with a short nod, failing miserably at hiding a bashful smile. 

“So polite,” she hummed, standing up quite abruptly and practically throwing you off balance with the way you reared back. Her intoxicating scent wrapped around you, infiltrating your senses and making your head spin all over again. Then her slender fingers were wrapped around the hair at the crown of your head, yanking you forward onto your hands and knees, and into step with her as she headed towards her bedroom. 

Your shriek of both surprise and pain made her smirk, but Wilhemina continued her leisurely pace without acknowledging you, every footfall accentuated a moment later by the crack of her cane. The hardwood floor was glossy and made your knees burn after some awkward movements as you tried to stay in step with her, and every few feet you would lose pace and end up in front or behind her. 

“Keep up,” Wilhemina instructed with a short tug of your hair when you fell farther behind her than she wanted. When you let out a loud whine in response and tried to yank your head away from her grip, she stopped abruptly at the threshold to her bedroom, making you whip your own head back as you kept moving forward. Keeping one hand tight in your hair, she wrapped the other securely over the head of her cane so that she could lean over it to look at you closely. You could see the little amber flecks that lit up her deep brown irises shining with how close she was to you, and you knew she heard the whimper you tried to choke back. “I believe you should know better than to take an attitude with me, pet,” she said quietly, the implication in her low tone crystal clear. “That is your first strike, and you only get two.”

 _Well, that’s not how baseball works,_ you couldn’t help but think it, but praise Olympus you didn’t blurt that out. Unfortunately for you, though, Wilhemina was much too observant for your lack of ability to reign in your thoughts, and facial expressions. 

“I can see you want to tell me that that’s not how the strike system works, and I’m well aware,” Wilhemina said simply, offering you the slightest smirk as she straightened back up. “But if you’re quite done, I’d like to get on with this evening.” Any playfulness was gone just as quickly as it came, and she was watching you again in that aloof way that told you she was verging on impatient. 

“Yes, Ms. Venable,” you told her with a nod, adding what you hoped was a sincere-sounding, “I’m sorry.” Then you adjusted your posture as best you could with her hand tight to the back of your head so that you were just half a step behind her. 

Seemingly satisfied, she finally guided you into the room and to the foot of her bed. Wilhemina turned you so that you had to kneel with your chest just-barely brushing the silky comforter, slightly bent over the foot of the bed. “Stay,” she directed, letting go of your hair finally to walk to the dresser on the opposite wall. Your head slouched a little, but you stayed absolutely still otherwise while you listened to her moving things around in the top drawer. 

This was new territory for you, at least, mostly. There had been that one time where, _was her name Jane_? Who knew at this point. Jane had asked if you wanted to try ‘something new’, and used a thick leather belt around your neck as a makeshift collar and leash. Just the thought of her pulling back on the length of leather until you could hardly breathe as she fucked you from behind had your briefs soaked. But you knew whatever Wilhemina had planned was going to blow that night out of the water. The tap of her cane right behind you drug you from your daydreams, tensing slightly at how close she had gotten without you noticing. 

Wilhemina situated herself directly behind you, standing with a foot on either side of yours where you were knelt in front of her. She dropped the items from her dresser on the bed near your head, but you could only catch sight of the silk ties out of the corner of your eye. Then she propped her cane against the bed frame, taking her time with each movement, she was in no hurry now that she had you where she wanted you. Both hands settled on your shoulders, dragging slowly up the back of your neck, scratching sharp nails over your scalp as she went. When you sighed contentedly she stopped her ascent, tangling her fingers into your curls and pulling your head away from the mattress. Not quite harsh, just to get your eyes on her as she searched your face, making sure you were still idling on the edge of intimidated and excited. Wilhemina watched you bite your lip under her scrutinizing gaze and tutted at you quietly. “Enough of that, you’ll make yourself bleed,” she ordered. “Get in position,” Wilhemina added before letting go of your hair to pick up the leather collar lying next to the silk ties. Once you were situated properly, Wilhemina slipped the cool leather around your throat and cinched it tightly at the back of your neck. 

The collar was snug, but the moment it was in place it almost felt like you could breathe easier. Wilhemina was in charge, and you didn’t have to think about anything at all unless she wanted you to. Right here, on your knees in front of this formidable woman seemed like the perfect place to be. 

“What color are we, pet?” Wilhemina asked, giving you a gentle scratch behind your ear that made you mewl happily. 

“Green, Ms. Venable,” you sighed, leaning into her hand appreciatively while she pet you. 

“Good,” she murmured, tapping the toe of her stiletto against your inner calf at the same time. “Bend over the bed, arms behind your back.” As much as she enjoyed dragging you around, bending over and straining her back continuously to guide you wouldn’t prove to let the night last as long as she wanted it to. 

Standing quickly from your knees, you could feel the skirt of her robe brush against the back of your legs, making you shiver just a bit. Wilhemina didn’t move an inch from her imperious stance behind you as you bent over the mattress and reached behind yourself to clasp your hands together. She hardly made a sound behind you other than the soft rustle of the silk ties unraveling, and you found yourself getting anxiously excited all over again. Your skin flushed that lovely shade of pink Wilhemina found quite attractive as she dangled the edge of the purple tie near the back of your knee, smirking when you twitched and tried not to squirm from how it tickled. Goosebumps made a trail behind the tie as she teased it over your thighs and up your lower back, finally lacing it around your wrists and knotting it with a neat bow. Wilhemina couldn’t help but notice how good you looked like this, a cute little present for her to play with and unwrap at her leisure. 

Hooking her index fingers in the waistband of your briefs, she pulled them down with a swift yank, leaving them bunched at your ankles for you to step out of. Then she had a grip on the cane she had left well out of your line of sight on the bed, enjoying how the worn bamboo smoothed over the pads of her fingers. Wilhemina tapped the end against your ankles with a sharp, “Spread.” 

You shifted your hips higher on the bed, leveraging yourself so you could spread your legs out a little farther than shoulder width, and immediately you felt how wet you were. Cool air washed over your exposed cunt and it made you gasp into the sheets, knowing full well Wilhemina would notice it right away. 

“Now, you don’t have to count this time,” Wilhemina instructed as she started to lightly tap the cane up your bare thighs. It was teasing and certainly didn’t denote the serious tone in her voice. “But, I do know you make the sweetest little noises. So, I’m going to cane you until I’ve heard every whine and whimper you could possibly make. And once you’re a sniveling, crying mess, I might show you some mercy.” Wilhemina used one hand to steady herself on the edge of the bed so she could lean over you, ghosting her lips over your ear, loving the way it made you tense up. “Do you think you can manage that?” It wasn’t really a question, but it did require an answer. 

“Y-Yes, Ms. Venable,” you squeaked, mentally kicking yourself for how pathetic you sounded. But the thought didn’t have long to sit before she was swinging the cane down much harder across the tops of your thighs. _Well, hello_ , you sighed to yourself. That feeling was like no other, a mixture of gratifying humiliation and the freedom of sinking into the warmth her domination offered. You just needed to give in, give Wilhemina what she wanted, and you would inevitably get what you wanted too. 

Three more stinging swats, back and forth across your legs, and she hadn’t even reached your ass yet. Wilhemina focused on your inner thighs, delighted at the way your skin almost instantly reacted to each swat. Long, angry red welts in almost perfect straight lines, marking their path up your skin. When she brought the bamboo across the sensitive flesh right at your sit spot, you yelped. A high pitched, keening noise that made the redhead chuckle darkly behind you, obviously amused with the first of many of the sounds she planned on eliciting from you. 

Back down your thighs the cane traveled, taunting you for what felt like forever. She kept a steady pace, never slowing or speeding up, like she had an internal metronome keeping time for her. Another long whine echoed through the room as she left a particularly harsh swat to your left inner thigh, making your muscles quiver trying to keep still.

“Oh, is it really all that bad?” Wilhemina cooed, the mocking tone making the heat between your legs even worse. You knew you were soaked, and that she was privy to a perfect view of your needy pussy. 

This time when she landed a searing smack to your upper thighs, she slid the smooth wood across the welt, digging it into your warm flesh. She watched with mild interest as your fingers flexed, then balled back up, taking all your effort not to squirm as you let out a pitiful moan. 

“Ms. Venable, please,” you whispered, not really knowing what you were asking for, but knowing you needed more of whatever she had to give. 

“Please what, pet?” She asked, still teasing the raised welts that peppered your skin. Wilhemina knew you didn’t really have anything to say, and that you were desperate for her to pick up the pace. When you didn’t answer her, she raised her arm higher than she had thus far and spanked your upper thighs several times in quick succession, reveling in the way you screamed into the sheets. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Wilhemina taunted, then brought the cane down on a sensitive bit of flesh under the curve of your ass. 

“Ah! Fuck you!” you wailed, head flying backwards in sheer agony. It took you a beat too long to realize you’d said that out loud, and quickly tried to apologize, but Wilhemina was already on you. 

“What did you just say to me?” Her voice was right in your ear, leaning over your bent frame. It was low and harsh and made you whimper pitifully. You strung out several garbled apologies, hoping she understood it was just a slip, and promised her repeatedly that you would be on your best behavior for the rest of the night. Wilhemina reached between your bodies, noticing the sheen of sweat coating your freckled back and arms, and in a much softer tone she whispered, “Do you need to change your color, little one?” Her fingers were gripped around your tied wrists, ready to free you if you answered in the affirmative. 

The brief moment of softness made you blush, and you turned your face into the sheets to hide your rapidly-warming cheeks. “No, Ms. Venable. I’m okay, but thank you,” you muttered, not wanting to turn your head too much as she hovered near your face. “A-And, I’m sorry, again, for disrespecting you.” Peeking up at her, you tried to see if she believed your apology, and you could see the slightest upturn of her perfectly painted lips. Then she was stepping back from you, leaving you bent over the bed and exposed to her as she tapped the bamboo cane on the ground thoughtfully.

“I will consider forgiving you if you can manage to finish this without cursing at me.” She couldn’t help it, now that you couldn’t see her, Wilhemina allowed herself a small smile at your little outburst. You were a fighter, and it pained her, but she liked it. 

“Yes, Ms. Venable,” you muttered with a slight nod, trying to relax your muscles. With the moment of rest you could feel how the fresh welts burned your skin like a hot brand, but then the cane was singing down directly in the center of your ass disrupting all other thoughts. You whimpered and curled your toes, pushing your ass higher into the air towards her. It was thrilling, what the cane made you feel; exposed and humiliated and acknowledged and taken care of, all wielded by a woman that promised to make the world melt away, if only for a few hours. 

Wilhemina started to pepper the bamboo over your pert ass cheeks at a much quicker pace, and you could hardly process one swat from the next. Within moments you were sobbing into the sheets, squirming helplessly as you tugged at the silk around your wrists, which only cinched the knot she had tied tighter. Your tears soaked the duvet as you whined and pleaded at her to stop, knowing she wouldn’t unless you actually signaled her to. “Ms. Venable, please!” You wailed as you felt your flesh split under a particularly harsh swat to your asscheek. Several more painful strikes fell across your burning skin as Wilhemina made sure each cheek was evenly punished. 

Dropping the cane on the bed beside you, Wilhemina knew that was far enough for tonight. She swiped the pad of her finger over the bleeding welt, smirking at the way you squealed in pain before bringing the dot of blood to her lips and licking it away. Your pain tasted delicious. Tangling her dainty fingers in your hair, Wilhemina yanked your face away from the sheets and far enough back that you could make eye contact with her. She was thrilled to see the tear stains on your cheeks and the glassy haze in your expressive eyes shining back at her. 

“Other than your little outburst, you did better than expected,” she said, even sounding a bit surprised with herself at the admission. “What color are we at?” She asked again for the second time in the evening. Mean, even cruel as she could come off, Wilhemina did have your well being at the forefront of her mind even as she happily caned you to the point of tears. 

Looking back up at her, you knew she would see the desperation begging her to offer you some sort of relief. “G..Green, Ms. V-Venable,” you whimpered between little hiccups. 

“And would this sweet little pup like their reward?” Wilhemina murmured softly, moving the hand in your hair down to cup your cheek in her palm. She watched a fresh tear trickle down your flushed cheek as you nodded eagerly, and it made her nostrils flair excitedly. “Use your words, pet,” she prompted.

“Yes, Ms. Venable, please,” you said, but it was so jumbled it almost came out as all one word. 

The wicked smile she threw you made your whole body tingle before she dropped her hand from your cheek and moved fully behind you again. One hand grasped your restrained wrists, pinning them to the small of your back harshly, the other drifted between your legs, skimming a few angry marks on your upper thighs. You moaned softly, whether in pain or pleasure she wasn’t entirely sure, but as she gently ran a single digit through your wetness, it certainly morphed into a needy whine. Wilhemina laughed at your wantonness, a dark and amused type of sound that didn’t really leave her chest as she teased your clit. “You seemed to have enjoyed that,” she noted, gripping at your wrists tighter when you squirmed beneath her. “Do you like it when I treat you like the naughty little pain slut you are?”

White hot heat shot between your legs as she taunted you, and it only proved to somehow make you more wet as you nodded vigorously in response. Wilhemina could practically feel your pussy clench from how she spoke to you, and it sped up her teasing ministrations, if just a bit.

When she pushed two fingers inside your tight cunt it made you groan and press your face into the sheets. _Finally_. 

“I must admit,” Wilhemina husked into your ear as she bent over you, her fingers entirely still inside your pussy as you tried not to wiggle or move too much. “You feel incredible around my fingers. I could stand here all night just letting your greedy little cunt grip down on them as you beg me for more.” And that was exactly what she wanted; she wanted to feel your need as you begged her to let you come. 

Her fingers twitched inside you just barely, but it was enough that you were whining and squirming again for some type of relief. You couldn’t control it, you supposed, as her words knocked around in your otherwise empty head. “Please, Ms. Venable,” you tried, knowing how pathetic you sounded, and hoping she would enjoy it enough to at least start moving inside of you. If she didn’t start soon you were pretty sure you might implode. 

“Please what, pet?” She asked, sounding innocently confused, which just made you more impatient. Wilhemina heard you groan into the sheets and smirked, pushing her fingers deeper inside of you without setting any type of pace. “You’ve been begging me all evening but you haven’t told me what it is you want. What do you want?” She sounded much more serious now, and it absolutely warranted an answer. 

As if to emphasize your desperation, you pushed your ass back into her, feeling the silk of her robe brush against your tender skin from the way she was still leaning over you. “Ms. Venable.. I need you to fuck me, please. Please I need to come, I need to,” you rambled at her, and when you flexed your hands out to relieve some of the tension in your wrists, she wrapped her fingers through yours immediately. A soft affection you weren’t used to from her, but it was appreciated as she started to pump her fingers into your cunt without any preamble. Her hand in yours kept you rooted to the bed as she fucked you mercilessly, to the point that you could hear the hitch in her breathing above your own exasperated gasps of air. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” was all you could manage, until they weren’t even words any more, just the semblance of sounds as she hit every spot just right. 

“Ask me nicely,” Wilhemina growled in your ear, knowing you were moments away from release. 

“Please! Please Ms. Venable, please let me come, please!” You wailed, and if you could have kicked your feet in utter, unbridled desperation, you would have, but Wilhemina had you expertly pinned to the bed. Her other hand untangled itself from the vice grip you had on her fingers only to travel down your beaten backside and between your thighs. She teased your clit with the tip of her index finger, offering no pressure as her fingers fucked into you harder with each thrust. It was just unfair. “Ms. Venable, I’ll die if you don’t let me come, please!” You screamed, and if you had your wits about you, the dramatic statement would have made you laugh too. The tight leather collar was wonderfully too constricting, and the lightheadedness just made you more eager for your release. 

But Wilhemina was the only one to find that funny at the moment. She chuckled quietly, even nipping at your ear with a sharp canine in a moment of playfulness. “Quite theatrical this evening, aren’t we?” At least then she gave you what you needed, applying firm and quick pressure to your clit, circling it the way she noticed you had liked last time. A long moan told her she had been right, and she felt your whole body go rigid beneath her just moments later. “You may come, little one,” Wilhemina said quietly into your ear, the lust in her voice making your whole body shudder. 

That was all it took, all you had needed was her affirmation and the agonizing way she was stroking your clit. “Yes, fuck, oh, Ms. Venable!” You cried, your orgasm ripping through every nerve in your body, lighting your skin on fire and wiping your mind clean. The world drifted away, and you floated for what felt like hours in the haze of your high. 

_

When you could finally open your eyes again, you noticed there was a pillow under your head, obviously put there by Wilhemina. It smelled like her, which made you hum happily. Your arms were free too, limp now at your sides and as you picked your head up to search for her, you saw she was sitting at the top of the bed, legs crossed and a book in her lap. She was watching you with a placid look on her face, gauging how you were feeling now that you’d rejoined the conscious. With a soft sigh, you flopped your head onto the pillow, looking at her sideways as you grinned giddily. Rolling her eyes, she sat her book on the bedside table then curled her index finger at you in a ‘come hither’ motion. 

Even with your sore muscles screaming at you to stay still, you managed to scramble up the bed rather quickly towards Wilhemina. Kneeling next to her crossed legs, you allowed yourself a blatant once-over of the beautiful woman in front of you until your eyes met hers again. “How’re you feeling?” She asked quietly, reaching up to grab your collar, pulling you forward onto hands and knees so your lips were just a breath from hers and your body was looming above her. 

Around a shaky breath you muttered, “Uh, really good, Ms. Venable.” You knew she saw the blush creeping up your cheeks, considering how close you were to her. Wilhemina looked so kissable right now, smirking at you while she held the leather collar in an ironclad grip. “Thank you,” you added, wanting to let her know you appreciated what she had given you. Your eyes glanced back and forth between her full, pouted lips and those expressive, dark irises that were still watching you too carefully. All you wanted now was for her to kiss you.

“Say please.” 

With a bashful smile, you looked down at her lips again and mumbled, “Please, Ms. Venable.” Then she was crashing her lips into yours, sucking the breath right out of you. The hand gripping your collar curled into your short hair and tugged gently, and you felt her smile at the way you whimpered into her mouth. Once neither of you could breathe properly, Wilhemina pulled away, cupping your cheek for but a tender moment before playfully pushing you away from her. With a giggle you sat back onto your knees, no longer hovering over her. 

“I took the liberty of putting lotion on your legs, and a bit of antiseptic on one of the more upset marks,” Wilhemina told you, trying to hide the pleasure it gave her to think about the inevitable bruises that would spread across your thighs and ass. But she saw it on your face as you registered that you were actually in a decent amount of pain, seeing your skin flush a bit. Wilhemina hoped you weren’t regretting the evening already, you were proving to be an enjoyable distraction. “Do you need anything? Water?” She asked, kicking herself for the soft tone she was using with you. 

Hiding the throb you were now definitely feeling in your lower legs, you smiled at her as sincerely as you could. “I’m okay, but thank you, Ms. Venable,” you said, pulling your legs out from under you so you could sit on the edge of the bed near her feet. The cool sheets felt better than expected. 

Well, that was that. “Your clothes are by the door,” she told you, sounding disinterested once again. Picking her book back up and recrossing her legs in the other direction, she flipped to the proper page and started reading. “Good night, Fate.” 

It took you a beat before you stood up, feeling like you had just been given whiplash. You didn’t glance back at her as you left her room, padding quietly across the hardwood and to the entry way. _This woman is a fuckin’ trip,_ you thought as you pulled your boots on, then shut her front door softly behind you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is! That took WAY too long to write, but i'm so glad it's out in the ether. Pls leave some love if you're so inclined, lemme know if there is anything you wanna see, needs to be fixed tag-wise. 
> 
> I'll be honest this chapter took so long because I wanted to get ahead to writing future, softer chapters and I just couldn't get myself to get through the awkward phase of this relationship. But i gotta get through it before we get to the good shit, i'd love if y'all stuck around while I figure it out!!! Thanks!


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